structural accounts of mathematical representationetheses.whiterose.ac.uk/7123/1/thesis.pdf · that...
TRANSCRIPT
Structural Accounts ofMathematical Representation
David Andrew Race
Submitted in accordance with the requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
The University of Leeds
The School of Philosophy, Religion & History of Science
October, 2014
The candidate confirms that the work submitted is his own and that
appropriate credit has been given where reference has been made to the work
of others.
This copy has been supplied on the understanding that it is copyright
material and that no quotation from the thesis may be published without
proper acknowledgement.
© 2014 The University of Leeds and David Race
i
Acknowledgements
First I would to thank my supervisors, Steven French and Juha Saatsi. They
have provided valuable support, guidance and constructive criticism as needed.
Their patience in reading my many, lengthy and half finished drafts has been
fantastic. I have followed their help as much as I have been able to, but I
certainly have more to learn. I also want to thank the rest of the department at
the University of Leeds. In particular Nicholas Jones for his constant support in
all matters related to teaching; Joseph Melia and Paolo Santorio for allowing
me to lecture on their units and the valuable feedback they gave; and to
Jonathan Topham and Graeme Gooday for their help and encouragement in
organising and finding funding for the White Rose Philosophy Postgraduate
Forum. Thanks also to everyone who attended the reading groups I joined
and the presentations I gave. The discussions and feedback were always useful
and helped broaden my horizons. I am also grateful to the University of York,
in particular Mary Leng, for offering me the chance to lead their third year
Philosophy of Maths unit. Thank you to the Arts and Humanities Research
Council who provided generous funding for my research.
This thesis could never have been completed without the friendships I’ve
made here at Leeds. A huge thank you to all of you, especially those of
you in the department: Jon Banks, Becky Bowd, Efram Sera-Shirar, Thomas
Brouwer, Carl Warom, Jordan Bartol, Richard Caves, Michael Bench-Capon,
Dani Adams, Sarah Adams, Wouter Kalf, Kerry McKenzie, Jamie Stark, Dom
ii
Berry, and anyone else who’s slipped my mind. You’ve all helped, through
discussing serious (and not serious) philosophical arguments to just being there
to share a drink with. Thank you to my friends outside of the department,
who provided a much needed dose of normality: Andy Ness, Dan Horner, Tim
Stock, Sam Grant, JJ Coates, Mungo Dalglish, Luke Bowen, Seb Atkinson
and many more. Thanks to my friends from Bristol and home. This thesis
prevented me from seeing you as much as I’d have liked, but it never felt like
I’d been away when I did get to see you. The feeling of lasting friendship was
an important motivator to finish.
Finally, and most of all, I’d like to thank my family for the continued belief
and support. Thank you for the unwavering encouragement in both me, and
my ability to complete this work. To Ian and Sue, this is for you.
iii
Abstract
Attempts to solve the problems of the applicability of mathematics have gen-
erally originated from the acceptance of a particular mathematical ontology.
In this thesis I argue that a proper approach to solving these problems comes
from an ‘application first’ approach. If one attempts to form the problems and
answer them from a position that is agnostic towards mathematical ontology,
the difficulties surrounding these problems fall away. I argue that there are
nine problems that require answering, and that the problems of representation
are the most interesting questions to answer. The applied metaphysical prob-
lem can be answered by structural relations, which are adopted as the starting
point for accounts of representation. The majority of the thesis concerns ar-
guing in favour of structural accounts of representation, in particular deciding
between the Inferential Conception of the Applicability of Mathematics and
Pincock’s Mapping Account. Through the case study of the rainbow, I argue
that the Inferential Conception is the more viable account. It is capable of
answering all of the problems of the applicability of mathematics, while the
methodology adopted by Pincock trivialises the answer it can supply to the
vital question of how the faithfulness and usefulness of representations are
related.
iv
Contents
1 Introduction 1
2 The Philosophical Problems of the Applicability of Mathemat-
ics 8
2.1 Introduction: What is the Applicability of Mathematics? . . . . 8
2.2 Examples of Applied Mathematics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
2.2.1 SU(3) and Sub-Atomic Physics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
2.2.2 Dirac and the Positron . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16
2.3 The Development of the Philosophical Problems . . . . . . . . . 21
2.3.1 The Metaphysical Problems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
2.3.2 Representation & The Descriptive Problem . . . . . . . . 23
2.3.3 Novel Predictions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
2.3.4 Isolated Mathematics and Steiner’s Epistemological Prob-
lem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
2.3.5 The Semantic Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
2.3.6 The Mathematical Explanation Problem . . . . . . . . . 39
2.4 Solving the Applied Metaphysical Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . 41
2.5 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
3 Representation 46
3.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
3.2 What is Representation? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
v
3.3 A Special Problem for Scientific Representation? . . . . . . . . . 49
3.3.1 The Constitution Question . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
3.3.2 The Demarcation Question . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
3.4 Contessa’s Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
3.4.1 Necessary & Sufficient Conditions for Epistemic Repre-
sentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
3.4.2 Necessary & Sufficient Conditions for Surrogative Infer-
ences . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
3.4.3 Faithful Epistemic Representation . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
3.4.4 Scientific and Epistemic Representation . . . . . . . . . . 76
3.5 Chakravartty: Informational vs. Functional Accounts of Repre-
sentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79
3.6 Conclusion: Answering Callender and Cohen’s Questions . . . . 85
3.6.1 Answering the Constitutive Question . . . . . . . . . . . 85
3.6.2 Answering the Normative Issue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86
4 Structural Relation Accounts of Representation 88
4.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88
4.2 Structural Mapping Accounts of Representation . . . . . . . . . 90
4.2.1 The Inferential Conception of the Applicability of Math-
ematics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90
4.2.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
4.3 The Structural Mapping Accounts & Epistemic Representation 113
4.3.1 The Inferential Conception . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115
4.3.2 The Mapping Account . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
4.4 The Structural Mapping Accounts & Faithful Epistemic Repre-
sentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130
4.4.1 The Inferential Conception . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
4.4.2 The Mapping Account . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
vi
4.5 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135
5 The Rainbow: An Introduction 137
5.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
5.2 The Ray Theoretic Approach to The Rainbow Angle and Colours139
5.3 The Mie Solution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
5.4 Supernumerary Bows & The CAM Approach . . . . . . . . . . . 145
5.5 Philosophical Responses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153
6 The Inferential Conception and the Rainbow 156
6.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
6.2 The Inferential Conception and Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . . 158
6.2.1 Partial Truth and Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
6.2.2 Partial Structures and Idealisations . . . . . . . . . . . . 164
6.2.3 Surplus Structure on the Inferential Conception . . . . . 171
6.3 The IC Applied to the Rainbow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
6.3.1 Beta to Infinity Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
6.3.2 CAM Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
6.4 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
7 Pincock’s Mapping Account and the Rainbow 197
7.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
7.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account and Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . 198
7.2.1 Account of Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198
7.2.2 PMA, Faithfulness and Usefulness . . . . . . . . . . . . . 204
7.3 The PMA Applied to the Rainbow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
7.3.1 Beta to Infinity Idealisation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221
7.3.2 CAM Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226
7.4 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241
vii
8 Choosing An Account 243
8.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
8.1.1 The Inferential Conception . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 244
8.1.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247
8.2 Are the Accounts of Representation Successful? . . . . . . . . . 250
8.2.1 The Isolated Mathematics Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . 251
8.2.2 Multiple Interpretations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 252
8.2.3 The Novel Predictions Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 254
8.2.4 The Problem of Misrepresentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . 259
8.3 Methodologies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 261
8.3.1 The Brading, Landry & French Debate . . . . . . . . . . 262
8.3.2 Pincock’s Methodological Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . 268
8.3.3 Accounting For Pincock’s Epistemic Contributions . . . 271
8.4 Choosing An Account . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
8.5 Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
9 Conclusion 281
A Appendix: Mathematics of the Rainbow 288
A.1 Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 288
A.2 Mie Representation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289
A.3 Debye Expansion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 307
A.4 Poisson Sum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311
A.5 Unified CAM Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 311
A.5.1 Third Debye Term . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 312
A.5.2 CFU Method for Saddle Points . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 313
A.6 Poles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 316
Bibliography 318
viii
List of Figures
2.1 Charge verses Strangeness plot of the heavy Baryons . . . . . . 15
4.1 Schematic diagram of the Inferential Conception . . . . . . . . . 95
5.1 Basic geometry of a ray incident a spherical water drop . . . . . 139
5.2 Diagram demonstrating that light groups around the minimum
angle of deflection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141
5.3 Plot of Regge poles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
5.4 Plot of Regge-Debye poles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151
1
1 | Introduction
The relationship between mathematics and science is one of the most active
areas of research in contemporary philosophy of science. The issues discussed
range from the general, such as whether mathematics is indispensable to sci-
ence, to the specific, such as whether prime numbers are explanatory. This
thesis will look at the general problem of the applicability of mathematics.
This problem can be initially characterised as the question “how is mathe-
matics applicable to the world?” A little reflection, however, shows that this
initial characterisation is seriously underdeveloped; what is meant by “applica-
ble” is vague. One might be asking how a particular ontology of mathematics
can be related to the world. Alternatively, one might be wondering whether
mathematics is able to explain physical phenomena. Steiner (1998) noticed
the ambiguity in this question and attempted to resolve it through philosoph-
ical analysis. He argued that one could distinguish several different problems
that fall under the general problem of the applicability of mathematics, and
that confusing and conflating these problems leads to difficulty in providing
adequate answers to the issues.
I will argue (in Chapter 2) that part of the difficulty in answering these
questions originates in the adoption of an ‘ontology first’ approach to the
questions. It has typically been the case that philosophers have a particular
ontology of mathematics in mind when they set out what they consider to be
‘the’ problem (or problems) of applicability. For example, a Platonist about
2
mathematics is often challenged to provide an account of how abstract acausal
objects are related to the world, such that they can be used to gain knowl-
edge about the world. That is, to explain the role of mathematics in science.
Alternatively, nominalists are challenged to provide an account of how false
statements can be used to gain knowledge. I reject this approach and argue
in favour of an ‘applications first’ approach: one should attempt to answer
the problems of the applicability of mathematics in an ontologically neutral
fashion.
My aim for this thesis is to identify a philosophical account of the appli-
cability of mathematics that will answer the relevant problems. My approach
to identifying such an account will be to properly distinguish the numerous
problems that fall under the umbrella of ‘the applicability of mathematics’,
argue that some of these problems depend on answers to others, and show
how my favoured account can answer these problems. Specifically, I will ar-
gue that the ‘applied metaphysical problem’ should be answered first. This
problem asks for a link between the mathematical and physical domains and
little more. I will also argue that the more interesting and difficult question
to answer is the problem of representation, the question of how mathematics
is able to represent the world. Several of the problems of applicability can
be understood as being (sub)problems of the problem of representation: is-
sues related to misrepresentation, and the issue of how multiple (sometimes
conflicting) interpretations of the same mathematics can each be partially suc-
cessful. As I consider the problems of representation to be the most difficult
of the problems to solve, the majority of this thesis will focus on issues related
to scientific representation.
In Chapter 2 I will set out nine distinct problems that fall under the um-
brella of ‘the applicability of mathematics’. These nine problems are:
1. The pure metaphysical problem.
3
2. The applied metaphysical problem.
3. The problems of representation:
3.a) The problem of representation.
3.b) The problems due to misrepresentation.
3.c) The multiple interpretations problem.
4. The novel predictions problem.
5. The problem of isolated mathematics.
6. The semantic problem.
7. The mathematical explanation problem.
I will follow Steiner’s (1998) and Pincock’s (2012) development and analysis
of these problems. I will argue that the pure metaphysical problem should be
answered by philosophers of mathematics, and that the semantic and mathe-
matical explanation problems require far more work to be undertaken before
they can be answered. As such, I will not answer these problems in this the-
sis. I will answer the applied metaphysical problem by appealing to structural
relations. The main motivation for this answer is that the bar is set very low
for a satisfactory answer to the applied metaphysical problem, but not for an
account of representation. An adequate account of mathematical representa-
tion will have to fulfil certain criteria (discussed in Chapter 3). These criteria
will dictate what will be required of the representation relation, which relates
the mathematical and physical domains. As such, the representation relation
is (in part) the answer to the applied metaphysical question.
I will conduct my investigation of representation in Chapter 3. There I will
argue in favour of structural accounts of scientific representation. The chapter
is structured around the question of whether there is a unique feature of scien-
tific representation. I will adopt the position that representation is an activity
4
that has a purpose, and that the purpose can set criteria for the representation
relation. I will argue that scientific representation is most likely what Con-
tessa defines as partially faithful epistemic representation. A partially faithful
epistemic representation is one where our representational vehicle allows us
to draw at least one sound surrogative inference about the representational
target. An advantage of adopting structural accounts of representation is that
we are able to use the (formal) notions of structural similarity to ground the
notion of partial faithfulness. This, in turn, allows us to explain why represen-
tational vehicles which purposefully misrepresent their targets can be useful.
In Chapter 4 I will set out two structural accounts of representation: the In-
ferential Conception of the Applicability of Mathematics,1 and Pincock’s most
recent Mapping Account.2 In addition to introducing these accounts in this
chapter, I will also investigate how they fit into Contessa’s approach towards
representation, which involves distinguish epistemic and faithful epistemic rep-
resentation.3 I will argue that Pincock’s Mapping Account can be understood
as an account of epistemic representation, but the Inferential Conception can-
not. However, I will sketch how both can be understood as accounts of faithful
epistemic representation. I will only provide a sketch of this claim in Chapter
4, because establishing whether either account succeeds as an account of faith-
ful epistemic representation takes a lot of careful, detailed argument centred
around the relationship between the faithfulness and usefulness of representa-
tions. This argument will be undertaken in Chapters 6 and 7.
Before I conduct the investigation into the success of the accounts, I set out
my central case study, the rainbow, in Chapter 5. In this chapter I will outline
the core mathematical ideas behind three representations of the rainbow: the
1See Bueno & Colyvan (2011), Bueno & French (2011, 2012).2Pincock (2012).3Epistemic representation is characterised as a representation that is used to learn some-
thing about its target. It consists in the drawing of valid surrogative inferences. Faithfulepistemic representations concerns the soundness of those surrogative inferences. See Con-tessa (2007, 2011).
5
ray theoretic representation; the Mie representation; and the Complex Angu-
lar Moment (CAM) approach. These representations all involve various types
of idealisations, abstractions and mathematical techniques. Furthermore, they
are related to each other in interesting ways. With an understanding of the
rainbow in hand, I will turn to the arguments concerning the viability of the
Inferential Conception and Pincock’s Mapping Account being accounts of faith-
ful epistemic representation. I will address each account individually. My ap-
proach to each account will be the same: I will establish whether the account
can use the same structural resources to accommodate different types of ide-
alisation; and whether the account provides an adequate explanation for how
the faithfulness and usefulness of representations are related given the answer
to the first issue.4 During the analysis of the two accounts, I will employ the
β →∞ singular limit, which is used to obtain a ray representation from wave
theory, and the abstract mathematics involved in the CAM approach. These
features of the representations of the rainbow, what role they play, how they
are obtained, and so on will form crucial test cases for the conclusions I draw
in answering the above two questions.
In Chapter 6 I will discuss the Inferential Conception. I will identify partial
structures and the associated notion of partial truth as being capable of pro-
viding an explanation of how partially faithful representations can be useful,
and that the same structural resources can be used for Galilean and singular
limit idealisations. However, I will identify issues concerning how idealisations
and the notion of ‘surplus structure’ should be accommodated on the Inferen-
tial Conception. As the Inferential Conception is part of the partial structures
version of the Semantic View, other work on this topic can be appealed to.
I will identify a dilemma generated by the attempt to accommodate surplus
4I will focus on two different types of idealisation: Galilean and singular limit idealisa-tions. See McMullin (1985) for Galilean idealisations, Batterman (2001) for singular limitidealisations. See also Weisberg (2007, 2013) for a different way of distinguishing these typesof idealisation.
6
structure on the Inferential Conception. I will employ the β →∞ limit to test
the conclusions concerning idealisations and surplus structure. I will use the
mathematics of the CAM approach to test the solutions to the dilemma. In
doing so I generate a further problem due to the possible indispensability of ray
theoretic concepts in the creation of the CAM approach models. I will argue
that a possible solution to this problem is to regard the Inferential Conception
as a third ‘axis’ of the Semantic View, to compliment the horizontal axis of
inter-theory relations and the vertical axis of data, phenomena and abstract
model relations. The Inferential Conception passes these tests, though further
work is required to flesh out the solutions.
I will discuss Pincock’s Mapping Account in Chapter 7. I will argue that it
requires different structural resources to accommodate Galilean idealisations
compared to singular limit idealisations. Pincock argues for understanding
some instances of singular limit idealisations in terms of singular perturba-
tions. As part of this argument, he advocates an interpretative position of
‘metaphysical agnosticism’ towards these perturbations, rejecting instrumen-
talist and metaphysical (i.e. emergentist or reductionist) positions. The Map-
ping Account appears to be capable of accommodating the relationship be-
tween faithfulness and usefulness for Galilean idealisations, through the use of
the specification relation and structural relation that relate the vehicle to the
target. I will find the case to be less clear for the singular limit (perturbation)
idealisations. I will argue that Pincock’s arguments in favour of his metaphys-
ical agnosticism are lacking, and his exposition of the position is unclear. I will
employ the β → ∞ idealisation and CAM approach in an attempt to better
understand metaphysical agnosticism, but I will conclude that it is either too
undeveloped a position to currently hold, or that it collapses into a form of
reductionism.
I will decide between the Inferential Conception and Pincock’s Mapping
7
Account in Chapter 8. To choose between the two accounts I will draw on the
conclusions of the previous chapters (6 and 7) to answer the relevant problems
of applicability from Chapter 2. These are the problem of isolated mathemat-
ics, the novel predictions and the multiple interpretations problem. Answering
the problem of representation and problems due to misrepresentation (specifi-
cally the issues raises by abstraction and idealisation) requires explaining how
an account of representation can provide faithful epistemic representation; as
such, the conclusion to Chapter 7 means that I will not able to immediately
answer these problems for Pincock’s Mapping Account. I will be able to an-
swer them for the Inferential Conception. Before concluding in favour of the
Inferential Conception, however, I will conduct a short investigation into the
methodology adopted by Pincock to construct his account. I will draw on the
analogous argument between French and Brading & Landry over the role of
the philosopher of science. The root of their disagreement is a rejection by
Brading & Landry of the ‘meta-level’ that French claims the philosopher of
science operates at. I will argue that Pincock’s position is similar to Brading
& Landry’s, such that he blurs the distinction between the meta-level and the
object level. This results in a trivialisation of the relationship between the
faithfulness and usefulness of representations. Due to this trivialisation, I will
reject Pincock’s Account, and adopt the Inferential Conception as the most
plausible account of representation.
8
2 | The Philosophical Problems of
the Applicability of
Mathematics
2.1 Introduction: What is the Applicability of
Mathematics?
In this chapter I will argue that the problem of the applicability of mathematics
is really a collection of problems, such as the pure and applied metaphysical
problems, the problems of representation and the mathematical explanation
problem. I argue that the applied metaphysical problem, the problems of
representation, the problem of novel predictions and the problem of isolated
mathematics to be the problems we should aim to answer first. This chapter
is concerned with explicating these problems, and justifying why I think these
problems are the ones which should be answered first.
I will present two examples of how mathematics can be applied to the
physical world: the use of the SU(3) group to classify the heavy baryons and
predict the quark model; and Dirac’s relativistic wave equation and the pre-
diction of the positron. I will use these examples to motivate some intuitive
worries about how applications work. I will then turn to one of the most im-
portant works on the applicability of mathematics, Steiner’s The Applicability
9
of Mathematics as a Philosophical Problem1 and contrast the intuitive worries
generated by the examples to the problems identified by Steiner. Some agree-
ment is found, though I will also argue against the way Steiner forms some
of his problems (mostly in line with Pincock’s criticisms (Pincock 2012, §8)).
This is due in part to the ontology first approach Steiner has adopted: Steiner
argues for a Fregean ontology of mathematics, which he accepts due to Frege’s
solution to the semantic problem that arises due to number terms acting as
predicates in some contexts and singular terms in others (Steiner 1998, pg.
16-17).2 I will end the chapter by arguing that the applied metaphysical prob-
lem is straightforwardly answered by structural relation accounts, and that the
more interesting problems are those concerning how mathematics is capable of
representing the world.
The general approach to the applicability of mathematics has been to as-
sume a particular ontology of mathematics and then attempt to explain how
that ontology either gets around problems that are due to that particular on-
tology3 or does not actually suffer from them.4 I take this approach to be a
consequence of indispensability arguments for mathematics. These arguments
claim that we should believe in those entities that are indispensable to our best
scientific theories and that mathematical entities are such objects, therefore we
should believe in the existence of mathematical entities.5 Pincock (2004b) ar-
gues that indispensability arguments rest on a misunderstanding of how math-
1Steiner (1998).2From this Fregean ontology, Steiner goes on to argue that the problems of applicability
have consequences for the rationality of pursuing naturalistic approaches to science. I willnot assess the arguments and claims concerning naturalistic approaches to science as thereis already a body of literature which argues against the conclusions Steiner draws againstnaturalism. See Simons (2001), Liston (2000), Kattau (2001), Bangu (2006) and Pincock(2012). I will however introduce the arguments in passing, as what Steiner has to sayabout the “Pythagorisation” of prediction is tied to how he sets up problems related to novelprediction and “the unreasonable effectiveness of mathematics” Wigner (1960).
3e.g. How are the non-spatiotemporal, acausal abstract objects of mathematical Platon-ism related to the world in an informative way?
4e.g. That some anti-realist positions hold mathematical statements to be literally falseis not a problem for accounting for the applicability of mathematics
5See Colyvan (2001).
10
ematics can be applied to the world and so draw unwarranted conclusions.6
This disagreement over how applications work and what the indispensability
argument shows, allows one to disagree with Colyvan over whether applica-
tions dictate mathematical ontology. I agree with Pincock’s evaluation of these
arguments and buy into his project of attempting to understand applications
of mathematics before attempting to draw any ontological commitments.
This line of argument is similar to the one adopted by Yablo (2005). He
argues that from a Fregean perspective towards mathematics (i.e. that it is a
science of abstract, sui generis objects) applicability can be seen as either a
datum, where “the question is, what lessons are to be drawn from it?”, or “as a
puzzle, and the question is, what explains it, how does it work?” (Yablo 2005,
pg. 98). Yablo argues that the datum perspective is usually given priority,
which leads to the following line of argument (Yablo 2005, pg. 89-90):
[that] since applicability would be a miracle if the mathematics involved
were not true, it is evidence that mathematics is true. The . . . ap-
plicability [of mathematics] is [then] explained in part by truth. It is
admitted, of course, that truth is not the full explanation. But the as-
sumption appears to be that any further considerations will be specific
to the mathematics involved and the application. The most that can be
said in general about why mathematics applies is that it is true.
Attention then turns to questions of what makes mathematical claims true,
that is, what the appropriate ontology of mathematics is (Platonic forms,
structures, etc.). Yablo then proceeds to turn these perspectives around, and
attempts to address the puzzle perspective of applicability first.
I can draw some support from other anti-realists for this approach, in that
they provide accounts of how to understand applicability without reference to
mathematical entities. Their motivations for constructing such arguments are6Pincock argues that Colyvan’s indispensability argument only establishes the semantic
realism of applied mathematics - that such statements must have a truth value.
11
obvious, though different to mine. I am appealing to anti-realist arguments
that proceed in two stages after putting forward the hypothesis that mathemat-
ical entities do not exist. The anti-realists first have to show how applications
can be understood without reference to mathematical entities. Second, they
argue from such an understanding of applications that mathematical entities
do not exist. For example, Maddy’s Arealist (similar to a Formalist), argues
that the existence of abstract objects adds little to the utility of applied mathe-
matics (Maddy 2007, pg. 380-381); and Bueno (2005) argues that mathematics
can play a heuristic role and that it is the physics which is important in ap-
plications.7 Further work has to be done from these positions to argue that
mathematical entities themselves do not exist, as they are all compatible with
mathematical entities either existing or not. I only require the first part of
these arguments as they demonstrate that positing mathematical entities is
not necessary for understanding applications of mathematics.8
I therefore conclude that the best approach to explaining how mathemat-
ics is applicable is to adopt accounts that only provide answers to what I will
call the applied metaphysical problem, and remain neutral with respect to
what I will call the pure metaphysical problem. Thus I will endorse answers
to the applied metaphysical problem which are “independent of pure mathe-
matics” (Pincock 2004a, pg. 130). I call this approach the ‘application first’
approach, to contrast with the previous approaches, which I call ‘ontology first’
approaches.
I also appeal to scientific practice as support for the ‘applicability first’
7Bueno’s position towards mathematics is variable. He offers a first step towards a con-structive empiricist approach to mathematics in his (1999), which would consist in arguingfor an agnostic attitude towards mathematical entities. In his (2009) he argues in favour ofmathematical Fictionalism.
8I have not appealed to Field here as I follow Yablo’s argument that just as the applica-bility of mathematics can be see as an argument or a problem, so too can indispensability,and that Field focuses on indispensability rather than applicability (Yablo 2005, pg. 92).The question that Yablo and I am concerned with is “how are actual applications to beunderstood, be the objects indispensable or not?”
12
approach. Applications of mathematics by scientists do not, in general, make
any reference to the ontology of the mathematics used.9 This is the case in
the examples below. This suggests that applications of mathematics do not
dictate that a side has to be taken on the realism/anti-realism debate in math-
ematics. As this claim is in direct opposition to Colyvan’s position, remember
that Pincock rejects Colyvan’s indispensability argument, arguing that it only
establishes semantic realism about mathematics. Pincock claims that Coly-
van’s argument should be reformulated with a weaker premise of “apparent
reference to mathematical entities is indispensable to our best scientific the-
ories” (Pincock 2004b, pg. 68). I therefore suggest (but will not argue) that
applications, at most, restrict the range of possible (particular) mathematical
ontologies. That is, while applications may rule out individual theories (Pla-
tonic forms or neo-Aristotelianism for example), they do not force one to be a
realist (or anti-realist) about mathematics. Of course, all anti-realist strategies
might be ruled out. However, such a situation would be a failure of anti-realist
accounts individually as opposed to anti-realism being categorically ruled out.
With regards to mathematical ontology, the mappings will require that the
mathematical domain displays certain (structural) features. This restrictive
move is similar to that taken by Bueno (2009), who argues that an ontology of
mathematics must fulfil certain criteria to be viable, explicitly discussing the
applicability of mathematics.
Now I will outline the two examples of applied mathematics: the applica-
tion of the SU(3) group to quarks; and the Dirac equation and the prediction
of the positron.
9Colyvan challenges this point via the example of the imaginary number i. He arguesthat mathematicians did not accept it as a number until after Gauss made use of it in hisproof of the fundamental theorems of algebra and physical applications for complex functiontheory were found (Colyvan 2002, pg. 104-105). I tentatively suggest that this shows thatscientists are unconcerned about the ontological status, given that applications had to befound before i was accepted by mathematicians.
13
2.2 Examples of Applied Mathematics
2.2.1 SU(3) and Sub-Atomic Physics
In the 1950s, there were a large number of new, supposedly fundamental,
particles being discovered. Besides the proton, neutron and electron, particle
physicists were aware of the pions (π+, π0, π−), kaons (K+,K0,K−) and eta
(η) mesons, and the lambda (Λ), delta (∆++,∆+,∆0,∆−), sigma (Σ+,Σ0,Σ−)
and xi (Ξ+,Ξ−) baryons. Establishing which decay modes were allowable and
which were not was a major problem caused by this wide range of particles.
A similar problem had arisen in the 1930s with the proton, when the question
was asked as to why it did not decay. A solution was found by requiring a
new property to be conserved, the baryon number. These new particles were
proposed to display a further new property, that of ‘strangeness’.10
An attempt to categorise these new particles was made by Gell-Mann. He
started by looking at isospin, an approximate symmetry that can be found
between protons and neutrons.11 The idealisation used to construct isospin
allowed for various calculations and predictions to be simplified. Gell-Mann
attempted to generalise the isospin strategy to the new particles by searching
for symmetries for the strong, weak and electromagnetic forces (Gell-Mann
1987, pg. 483-489).
Isospin demonstrates the roles that idealisation and abstraction play in
science and hint at how mathematics facilitates these processes. Following the
distinction drawn by Jones, an abstraction is the omission of detail by means
10The particles were considered ‘strange’ as they had a short creation time and a (rel-atively) slow decay time, indicating a different process was involved in their creation totheir decay. In fact, strong interactions (the interaction that holds the nucleus together)conserve strangeness and are responsible for the creation of strange particles, whereas weakinteractions (the interaction responsible for beta decay) are responsible for the decay of theparticles and do not converse strangeness.
11It was observed that these two particles are almost identical if their charges are ignored.It was therefore proposed to consider them as two different states of the same particle, a‘nucleon’.
14
of saying nothing about it, while idealisations are the inclusion of a falsehood
about a system (Jones 2005, pg. 175). In the isospin case, the equating of the
masses of the proton and neutron is an idealisation, while the lack of detail
on the charge of the neutron or proton is an abstraction. We need to account
for how mathematics is able to provide the tools for these moves and for how
making the moves can be justified.
It was pointed out to Gell-Mann that the algebra he was using is actually
the Lie algebra of the group SU(3). A group is a set of elements together
with an operator, such that the operator combines any two elements into a
third element.12 Groups can be represented by matrices. The matrices used
to represent a group can be generated from the Lie algebra. Arranging the
nine known heavy baryons (∆,Σ∗,Ξ∗, where an excited state is notified by
a * superscript) according to their strangeness and charge as in Figure 2.1
produces a geometry which is almost identical to one found in a particular
representation of the SU(3) group. This representation gives a decuplet, an
arrangement of 10 points. Due to experimental results which allowed this
representation to be made, Gell-Mann was able to predict the existence of a
10th heavy baryon, the Ω−, and its mass (Gell-Mann 1987, pg. 492). The light
baryons form an octet when plotted in the same way, while the mesons produce
a hexagon, each of which is identical to the geometry of other representations
of SU(3).
The prediction of the Ω− is a case of novel prediction, a key test for a
new theory. There are two features of this prediction that are of particular
interest and involve the use of mathematics. First, the prediction is not made
in the usual way as being the result of anomalous interactions that require
explanation.13 Rather, the Ω− was “read off” from the mathematics. Second,
12See Georgi (1999) Chapter 1 for details of what constitutes a group and Chapters 7and 9 for information on SU(3).
13See Bangu (2006) and §2.3.3 below for more on this claim.
15
34 1/HISTORICAL INTRODUCTION TO THE ELEMENTARY PARTICLES
charge) for the proton and the Q = 0 for the neutron, the lambda, the and the EO; Q = -1 for the and the E-. Horizontal lines associate particles of like strangeness: S = 0 for the proton and neutron, S = -1 for the middle line and S = -2 for the two Z's.
The eight lightest mesons fill a similar hexagonal pattern, forming the (pseudo-scalar) meson octet:
\ \ \ \
\ \
0=-1 0=0
\ \
\ \
\ \
\
0=1
The Meson Octet
Once again, diagonal lines determine charge, and horizontals determine strange-ness; but this time the top line has S = 1, the middle line S = 0, and the bottom line S = -1. (This discrepancy is a historical accident; Gell-Mann could just as well have assigned S = 1 to the proton and neutron, S = 0 to the and the A, and S = -1 to the E's. In 1953 he had no reason to prefer that choice, and it seemed most natural to give the familiar particles-proton, neutron, and pion-a strangeness of zero. After 1961 a new term-hypercharge-was introduced, which was equal to S for the mesons and to S + 1 for the baryons. But later developments showed that strangeness was the better quantity after all, and the word "hypercharge" has now been taken over for a quite different purpose.)
Hexagons were not the only figures allowed by the Eightfold Way; there was also, for example, a triangular array, incorporating 10 heavier baryons-the baryon decuplet:
A-S = 0 - - - - __ ---------....,\
\ \
*+ \
\ \
\ 0=-1
\
'" \ \ 0=2 \
\
\ 0=0
\ \
0=1
The Baryon Decuplet
Figure 2.1: Charge verses Strangeness plot of the heavy Baryons, including Ω−.Reproduced from Griffiths (1987).
the mathematics that is used to produce the prediction is highly abstract.
SU(3) does not describe physical rotations as is the case with other groups.
For example SU(2) can be used to describe angular momentum symmetry.
All symmetries that are found in a SU(n) group occur in some m-dimensional
space, the dimension of which is determined by the following equation: m =
n2 − 1. Therefore, SU(2) rotations occur in a 3-dimensional space, whereas
SU(3) rotations occur in an 8-dimensional space. This raises the question as
to why a piece of mathematics that describes rotations in an 8-dimensional
space is appropriate for describing a collection of particles. How are we able
to generate novel predictions by operations on such abstract mathematics?
The fundamental representation of the SU(3) group produces the geometry
of a equilateral triangle. This representation allowed Gell-Mann to draw the in-
ference that hadrons could be understood as being composed of a combination
of three fundamental parts. He did not originally consider these particles to be
‘real’, only ‘mathematical’, in that he did not think it was possible to observe
the parts in isolation and so would be permanently confined within hadrons
(Gell-Mann 1987, pg. 493). These parts are the foundation of the quark theory;
specifically, they are the light quarks: up, down, and strange. Quarks have
fractional charge, fractional baryon number and the strange quark carries a
16
strange quantum number of −1. Baryons are composed of a combination of
three quarks or antiquarks, while mesons are composed of a quark-antiquark
pair.
SU(3)’s contribution towards quark theory highlights a further role that
mathematics appears to be able to play, that of explanation. It seems that
answers to the questions raised above can be found in the mathematics itself;
that the symmetries of the physical system being described are completely
reproduced in the symmetries of SU(3) (given some abstractions and idealisa-
tions). The mathematics is therefore able to “explain” why we observe particu-
lar hadrons (only certain combinations of quarks are allowable, or only certain
symmetries can be obtained with 3 fundamental constituents, for example).
2.2.2 Dirac and the Positron
Dirac’s prediction of the positron was not a straightforward affair. A negative
energy solution was obtained from his relativistic wave equation. This solution
required interpretation within Quantum Mechanics. It was interpreted several
times, as several of the interpretations failed tests of empirical adequacy. I will
summarise the derivation of the Dirac equation and the relevant result. Then
I will briefly discuss the inadequate interpretations and the one that predicted
the positron as we now understand it.
The starting point for Dirac’s attempts to find a relativistic quantum theory
was the time dependent Schrödinger wave equation, (2.1). The Schrödinger
equation needs to be manipulated to work with relativistic energies, masses
and momentums. I will now present the derivation of the Dirac equation for a
free particle of spin 12 .
14
14The derivation is taken from Rae (2008).
17
−ih∂Ψ
∂t= HΨ (2.1)
E2 = p2c2 +m2c4 (2.2)
Assume that the energy operator, H, can be expressed in terms of the
momentum operator, P , in the same way as the energy, E, and momentum, p,
are in the classical limit, i.e. as in (2.2), to give (2.3). This gives an operator
that is the square root of another operator. There is no clear way of how to
handle this situation, but to preserve Lorentz invariance, we need the position
and time coordinates to be of the same order in a relativistic equation. The
left hand side is linear in time, so the right hand side must have linear position
and time coordinates, as in (2.4).
−ih∂Ψ
∂t=√
[P 2c2 +m2c4]Ψ (2.3)
−ih∂Ψ
∂t= [cγ1Px + cγ2Py + cγ3Pz + γ0mc
2]Ψ (2.4)
In order to resolve the equality and the relations required of the γi coeffi-
cients, the coefficients cannot be scalar numbers; the most simple expressions
for them are a set of 4 by 4 matrices. The final Dirac equation is given by (2.5).
The use of matrices in the Dirac equation requires that the two component
wave function, Ψ, of the Schrödinger equation is replaced with a four element
“spinor", or column matrix, ψ, as in (2.6).
18
ihγµ∂µψ −mcψ = 0 (2.5)
ψ =
⎛⎜⎜⎜⎜⎜⎜⎜⎜⎜⎝
ψ1
ψ2
ψ3
ψ4
⎞⎟⎟⎟⎟⎟⎟⎟⎟⎟⎠
=⎛⎜⎜⎝
ψA
ψB
⎞⎟⎟⎠
(2.6)
The classical relativistic equation (2.2), has solutions for negative energy
values, less than −mc2. These are rejected as being unphysical (as are positive
values over mc2) in classical mechanics. Such a move cannot be made in
Quantum Mechanics however, as transitions to negative energy states are in
principle achievable (Rae 2008, pg. 255). ψB is the negative energy solution
for the Dirac equation and is the result from which the positron is ultimately
predicted.
The first interpretation of this solution by Dirac was an attempt to resist
a negative energy particle interpretation. He proposed that they were states
already filled by electrons. This is the famous Dirac sea of negative energy
electrons. Transitions to these states would then be prevented by the Pauli
exclusion principle.15 When one of these sea electrons is excited by a photon
with enough energy to move it to one of the positive energy states, a negative
energy state is left vacant - described as a ‘hole’. The excited electron behaves
as a normal electron would. The electron sea and hole, however, behave dif-
ferently. The total energy of the sea has increased (by the value of the photon
minus the mass of the electron), making their net momentum −p, where p is
the momentum of the excited electron. This momentum behaves as an electron
with a positive charge would in an electric field.
15The Pauli exclusion principle states that no two fermions may occupy the same quantumstate simultaneously.
19
Despite several disagreements with experimental results, Dirac’s equation
was well supported (Kragh 1990, pg. 65). This was due in part to agreement
with other formal results (Kragh 1990, pg. 63). The main complaints came
from the interpretation of the negative energy states. While formal scattering
results showed that the negative energy states had to be taken seriously (Kragh
1990, pg. 89), the interpretation of them as an unobservable sea of electrons
was resisted. Pauli objected to the “zero charge” of the sea for example (Pais
et al. 1998, pg. 52-53). Dirac attempted to interpret the hole as a particle,
while maintaining the sea of negative states: first as a proton, then, due to
objections by Heisenberg that this would require the mass of the proton and
electron to be equated, as the positron (Kragh 1990, pg. 94, 103). Empirical
confirmation came first from Anderson, who discovered a particle of similar
mass to an electron but positively charged from cosmic ray interactions in a
cloud chamber. Blackett and Occhialini confirmed Anderson’s findings and
explicitly identified the particle with that of the positively charged electron
from Dirac’s equation (Kragh 1990, pg. 109). Attempts at interpreting the
Dirac equation as an empty vacuum state were led by Pauli and Weisskopf,
and Oppenheimer and Furry, though their own theories were also considered
inadequate (Kragh 1990, pg. 114). These theories were attempts to produce
Quantum Field Theories with an empty vacuum state. We are now able to
provide such an interpretation with modern Quantum Field Theories, such as
Quantum Electron Dynamics. The Dirac equation is taken to describe the
Dirac field, which has the (empty) vacuum as its ground state. The field
is interpreted as being excited or de-excited which leads to the creation of
electrons and positrons respectively.
The derivation of the relativistic wave equation is a normal application of
mathematics. The prediction of the positron, however, is unusual. It raises
questions over the nature of interpretation: how can one piece of mathematics
20
have two very different interpretations yet both have some predictive success?
This seems to imply that the mathematics refers to something in the world
that the first interpretation did not recognise but the second did. The question
of how mathematics can provide novel predictions is again raised.
I will use these two case studies to develop and distinguish some of the prob-
lems of the applicability of mathematics. Steiner also made use of these two
case studies when he developed his set of problems, so they provide a common
ground from which begin. The SU(3) example is used by Steiner to generate
his descriptive problem, which is motivated by the idea that mathematics has
to be appropriate in some way for its application. I will argue, however, that
the abstractions and idealisations involved in the development of isospin show
that Steiner has missed several features of representation. I will subsequently
argue that we should reject Steiner’s descriptive problem in favour of the more
nuanced problems of representation. I will also use the SU(3) example, and
other uses that SU(3) has been put to, to clarify the problem of isolated
mathematics, which concerns whether mathematics can be applicable if it was
created or discovered in isolation from considerations of applicability. I will
use the prediction of the positron to argue that Steiner has missed another
problem of representation, that of multiple interpretations. Specifically, that
the negative energy solutions could have useful but inconsistent multiple inter-
pretations needs to be accommodated. Both case studies involve prediction;
Steiner argues that the prediction of the Ω− is a Pythagorean prediction, where
the prediction involves reifying the mathematics. I will use these case studies
to develop the problem of novel predictions, and later compare them to cases
of typical prediction when answering these problems.
I will now move on to setting out what problems I believe an account of
applicability must answer. I first argue that there is a separate metaphysical
21
problem for applied mathematics than for pure mathematics. This is a problem
initially identified by Steiner, and expanded by Pincock. I then argue for five
more problems and contrast how I establish the problems with similar problems
identified by Steiner.
2.3 The Development of the Philosophical
Problems
In this section I will look at the problems posed by a statement of applied math-
ematics. The problems that I will outline are similar to those found by Steiner.
I will follow Pincock’s approach towards these questions, outlining how I will
aim answer some of the problems and reasons for dismissing others. First, I
will distinguish two types of metaphysical problem and argue that the applied
metaphysical problem is the one which requires an answer in this thesis. Sec-
ond, I will draw on the SU(3) example in a discussion over Steiner’s descriptive
problem and conclude that the idealisations and abstractions involved in the
example motivate an account of scientific representation.16 Steiner’s descrip-
tive problem only touches on representation, however. Third, I will discuss
novel predictions and Steiner’s epistemological problem. This discussion will
involve criticisms drawn from Bangu’s arguments, the outlining of the novel
predictions problem, and the forming of the problem of isolated mathematics
from Steiner’s comments on the historical origins of SU(3). Finally, I set out
the semantic and mathematical explanation problems, and argue that they16In this chapter I only outline the problem of representation and the problem of misrep-
resentation due to abstractions and idealisations. In §3.3.1 - The Argument from Misrep-resentation I will outline three further problems. These are: mistargeting due to mistakentarget; mistargeting due to non-existent targets; and misrepresentation due to empiricallyinadequate results. In §3.3.1 - The Argument from Misrepresentation I solve the problemof mistargeting due to mistaken target and argue that empirically inadequate results are ageneral problem for philosophy of science. In §3.5 I argue for a solution to the problem ofmistargeting due to non-existent targets. The problem of misrepresentation due to abstrac-tions and idealisations is discussed throughout this thesis, in the context of establishing anaccount of faithful epistemic representation.
22
require too much work to be answered in this thesis.
2.3.1 The Metaphysical Problems
There are two types of metaphysical problem involved in the applicability of
mathematics that need to be distinguished. The first is the problem of what
mathematics refers to, asking if there are mathematical entities. I shall refer
to it as the pure metaphysical problem. This is a question for philosophers of
mathematics. I shall call the second problem the applied metaphysical problem.
This problem arises because for “almost any interpretation of mathematics”
there is a “gap between the subject matter . . . and its applications” (Pincock
2012, pg. 172). For example, on Lewis’ part-whole relation interpretation of
mathematics, “the theory of hyperbolic differential equations is about some dis-
persed collection of mereological wholes and this intricately structured entity
seems just as extrinsic to fluid systems as any platonic entity". This prob-
lem was originally formulated by Steiner as being specific to Platonism about
mathematics. He held that there was a ‘metaphysical gap’ that “blocks any
nontrivial relation between mathematical and physical objects, contradicting
physics which presupposes such relations” (Steiner 1998, pg. 20). His com-
plaint rests upon an argument that because science admits only causal and
spatiotemporal relations, and abstract entities do not enter into such relation-
ships, on the Platonic view, physical theories are false (Steiner 1998, pg. 21).
I follow Pincock, however, in taking the applied metaphysical problem to be
a problem for (almost) all interpretations of mathematics.17 As it is such a
general problem, I take it to be independent of the ontology of mathematics.
These problems can be characterised as asking different questions about
the mathematical domain. The pure metaphysical problem asks what inhabits
17The one interpretation that might avoid this problem would be a nominalist one thatidentifies equations with the physical systems they are describing. In such a situation hy-perbolic differential equations are about fluid systems, if they’re about anything at all.
23
the domain, while the applied metaphysical problem asks how the mathemat-
ical domain is related to the physical world, irrespective of what inhabits the
mathematical domain. Solutions to the applied metaphysical problem should
therefore not dictate what mathematical entities are. That is not to say that
the solutions will be completely silent on what inhabits to the domain, how-
ever. Depending on how the relations are understood, they will set certain
limits on what can inhabit the mathematical domain. For example, if one
insisted that for a relation to exist, that relation’s relata must exist then Fic-
tionalist accounts of mathematics would be prima facíe ruled out.
Above, I endorsed an ‘applications first’ approach to the problems of appli-
cability, rather than the ‘ontology first’ approach most commonly found in the
literature. This ‘applications first’ approach means that I should attempt to
answer the applied metaphysical problem prior to settling the pure metaphys-
ical problem. In this thesis I will only be answering the applied metaphysical
question; as I said above, the pure metaphysical problem is one for philoso-
phers of mathematics, and my answer to the applied metaphysical problem
should be as silent as possible on the pure metaphysical problem.
2.3.2 Representation & The Descriptive Problem
Next, I turn to Steiner’s descriptive problem. I will argue that Steiner has
been lead astray by his Fregean ontology, and that he has posed a badly
formed question that, understood properly, concerns mathematics’ ability to
represent the world. I then set out some of the subproblems of the problems
of representation: issues related to misrepresentation (due to abstraction and
idealisation), and multiple interpretations. More specific concerns with repre-
sentation are set out in the next chapter, where I argue for adopting structural
relation accounts of representation. The discussion here leads into the next
problem Steiner discusses, the problem of novel prediction.
24
Steiner’s Descriptive Problem
Steiner’s descriptive problem can be loosely phrased as asking for an explana-
tion as to why certain mathematics is capable of describing certain physical
phenomena. Initially this seems very similar to asking how a certain piece of
mathematics is able to represent a physical situation. However, as will become
clear, Steiner is not working with a notion of ‘description’ that can be under-
stood as representation, due to the way his Fregean ontology causes him to
phrase his descriptive problem. Steiner’s solution to his descriptive problem is
to attempt to “[explain] in nominalistic language” why a piece of mathematics
is appropriate to describe a situation. The explanation Steiner provides con-
sists in attempting to pair the mathematical concept with a physical concept.
Steiner’s descriptive problem originates in his adoption of the Fregean ontol-
ogy; as such, the applications first approach allows one to dismiss the problem
as being badly formed. However, I will set out his problem, and Pincock’s
response, as it is a good example of how the ontology first approach causes
unnecessary complications that the application first approach can avoid.
The SU(3) example established an intuitive worry that is similar to Steiner’s
descriptive problem. The question was asked why the 8 dimensional rotations
described by SU(3) were appropriate for describing the hadrons. Steiner ar-
gues for a way of assuaging this worry in his account of how the application
of SU(3) should be understood. The solution comes from SU(3) providing an
account of how the hadrons came to be built out of quarks. The quarks are
‘found’ from SU(3) as follows (stated in general terms): “The group SU(n) has
two representations of n dimensions. The eigenvectors of the first can be taken
to be the state vectors of the n quarks. The second is conjugate to the first,
and its eigenvectors represent the antiquarks” (Hendry & Lichtenberg 1978,
pg. 1716). This means that, as SU(3) has a representation of 3 dimensions,
the number of eigenvectors of the first representation, 3, gives the number of
25
quarks, 3. These eigenvectors are written thus: up: ( 100); down: ( 0
10); strange:
( 001). The matching is between these eigenvectors, mathematical concepts, and
the concept of the quarks, which is linked to the physical objects themselves.
SU(3)’s success in answering the descriptive question at first appears to
be uncontroversial. An objection can be raised which, although it can be
answered in this case, can be generalised to call into question Steiner’s framing
of the descriptive problem. The objection runs as follows: SU(3) has only
one application, and that is to the light quarks. What if SU(3) is found
to have another application far removed from quarks? The matching then
cannot be between the eigenvectors and the quark concept. The reply to this
is that SU(3)’s success is not due to the quarks themselves, but that there
are 3 objects which display the symmetries that are found in SU(3). Any
subsequent application of SU(3) would have to be to 3 objects which display
these same symmetries.
The above objection to SU(3) can be generalised thus: “why is it that a
single piece of mathematics must be associated to the same physical concept
in every application?” Steiner has not argued for this being the case other
than requiring it to be a feature of a successful answer. Pincock takes up this
issue with Steiner: “he is assuming that when a given mathematical concept
functions descriptively in two representations, this concept must be describing
the same physical property in both cases” (Pincock 2012, pg. 177). Pincock
shows that applications of the same piece of mathematics do not always involve
the same features of the mathematics, never mind involving a consistent, single,
physical concept across all applications.18
Pincock has shown, at the very least, that Steiner requires an argument
for his presupposition that each applied piece of mathematics requires a single
18He makes use of examples that show that superposition does not require a superpositionof causes and that different features of analytic functions are used in different applicationsof these functions (Pincock 2012, pg. 177).
26
physical property consistent to all its applications. I agree with Pincock that
“the way Steiner frames his descriptive question . . . makes it harder to answer
than it should be and suggests a mystery where none exists”. The crux of
this objection is a disagreement with Steiner’s understanding of ‘description’.
He seems to confuse application with description, in that any application of
mathematics is ‘descriptive’ of some physical feature, whereas this is just not
the case (Pincock 2012, pg. 177). Rather, description should be understood as
representation. Representation is, loosely, taken to be the use of mathematics
to ‘describe’ and gain information, about the world.19 There are several key
features of representation that Steiner does not address. Chief among these are
idealisation and abstraction. As I will now argue, accounting for idealisation
and abstraction is another problem that should fall under the umbrella of the
problems of the applicability of mathematics: it is one of the problems of
mathematical representation.
Idealisation & Abstraction
Gell-Mann’s starting point for classifying the light hadrons was isospin. As
summarised above, the origin of isospin involved both idealisation and ab-
straction. How mathematics allows one to perform these actions needs to be
accounted for. I claim that any account of applicability (i.e. the answer to
the applied metaphysical problem) is too simple to handle idealisation and
abstraction, and that such accounts will need to be expanded to take account
of scientific representation.20
Abstraction is the omission of detail. This is demonstrated by isospin not
including details of the charge of the neutrons or protons. Idealisation involves
including known falsehoods in one’s description21 of a situation. In the isospin
19I hold out against using the jargon of representation until the next chapter.20This is in part because idealisation and abstraction are examples of misrepresentation.
Other instances of misrepresentation are discussed in §3.3.1.21I use ‘description’ here without intending to commit myself to any particular view
27
case this occurs when treating the mass of the neutrons and protons as being
of equal value.
The way that mathematics can facilitate an act of abstraction is easy to
understand: where an equation with 10 variables accurately describes every
feature of a situation, including less variables constitutes abstraction. There is
no obvious way in which one can provide a mathematical explanation for why,
or which, variables are dropped. These reasons are external to the mathemat-
ics, such as what is considered relevant, or not relevant, to the representation,
and so can or cannot be omitted. They depend upon what we might call
heuristic, pragmatic, and contextual considerations. These are things like the
aims and goals of the scientist, what they consider acceptable accuracy, and
so on.
Similarly, the reasons for introducing falsehoods into one’s description of a
situation depend upon heuristic, pragmatic and contextual considerations. For
instance, establishing how to simplify a model or deciding what is a relevant
feature of a system that requires idealisation (Jones 2005, pg. 187). There is
a further question over idealisation, however: how is one able to gain useful
information from the use of false descriptions?22 In the case of isospin, the false
equating of the neutron and proton masses allowed an approximate symmetry
to be found. Isopsin, however, is now not recognised to be physically real. Any
attempt to explain an application of mathematics that involves abstraction or
idealisation will necessitate an account of scientific representation.
of how mathematics provides information about the world. i.e. I am not endorsing thatmathematics literally describes the world, or a structure of the world, or that it representsin a particular way, etc.
22This is a question that proves central to my later analysis of accounts of representation.See chapters 6 and 7.
28
Multiple Interpretations
Dirac’s prediction of the positron provides an example of where a single piece
of mathematics, the negative energy states, was given multiple interpretations.
They required some interpretation to either justify throwing them away (treat-
ing them as unphysical ‘waste products’ of obtaining a relativistic account of
how electrons behave) or to keep them. In classical mechanics, negative energy
solutions can be rejected as being non-physical and so are redundant. This can-
not be done in Quantum Mechanics, so some sort of physical interpretation
is required. Dirac originally interpreted them as the sea of negative energy
particles. However, only the ‘hole’ received any sort of physical interpretation.
We now understand the negative energy solutions as antiparticles, in this case
the positron.23
When introducing this example in §2.2.2, I posed the question “how can
one piece of mathematics have two very different interpretations yet both have
some predictive success?” This question can be rephrased within the context
of representation. It asks of an account of representation for an explanation
as to how we can interpret a single piece of mathematics in physically very
different ways, yet have predictive success with each interpretation. This falls
to an account of representation as interpretation of the representation vehicle
in terms of the target is a key part of an account of representation.
2.3.3 Novel Predictions
A feature of Dirac’s prediction of the positron that was not discussed above
is that the prediction was novel. That is, he was able to predict something
new that previous versions of Quantum Mechanics did not. In this case, the
positron and its behaviour. This problem has already been outlined as an23Steiner only focuses on Dirac’s prediction of the positron in the context of his argument
that prediction has undergone a change in definition, so has nothing to say on this particularproblem. Steiner’s arguments concerning prediction are discussed in the next section, §2.3.3.
29
intuitive worry concerning the prediction of the Ω− hadron via the use of
SU(3) and the prediction of the positron. Accounts of the applicability of
mathematics need to explain how these novel predictions can be legitimately
made. A challenge to the prediction of Ω− comes from Steiner, who argues that
it was achieved by ‘Pythagorean’ analogies, which are irrational for scientists
who advocate a naturalistic methodology. I will follow Bangu (2008) in arguing
that there is a difference between the prediction of the Ω− and the positron,24
outline Steiner’s objection to the way that Ω− was predicted, and then form
the problem of novel predictions in a similar way to Bangu.
The standard philosophical framework for novel predictions is provided
by Hempel’s (1962; 1965) Deductive-Nomological (D-N) account, which states
that predictions are derived from laws of nature and a set of initial conditions.
Bangu argues that this framework of prediction can account for “existential”
predictions (the prediction of some existing entity, as opposed to some physical
phenomena that occurs) quite easily (Bangu 2008, pg. 245). The prediction
of novel entities often arises as the result of some anomalous behaviour, as
an explanation of that behaviour. In the case of the positron, for example,
the negative energy solutions indicated some entity (first interpreted as the
vacant state in the electron sea) would behave as an electron with positive
charge. Once this behaviour was observed, further anomalous behaviour was
noted and then “explained away” by the positron (Bangu 2008, pg. 247). This
situation is different to the one surrounding the prediction of the Ω−. While
one can construct anomalies that require explanation,25 there is no mention of
interaction in the prediction of Ω−. The argument proceeds along apparently
Formalist lines that because the other spin-32 baryons behave in a way consis-
24French also highlights the difference by arguing that the D-N model is “too simplistic”to account for the prediction of the Ω− (French 1999, pg. 202).
25Bangu points to the nine baryons that already fitted the decuplet requiring some ex-planation. The finding of a tenth spin- 3
2baryon would allow for such an explanation, the
“law-like generalization H: ‘Spin- 32baryons fit the symmetry scheme” ’ (Bangu 2008, pg. 247).
30
tent with SU(3), there should be a tenth, the Ω−. The physicists “read off” the
characteristics of Ω− from the formalism, as opposed to having some empirical
evidence of them due to interactions they had participated in (Bangu 2008,
pg. 249).
This type of “reading off” prediction is described by Steiner as a ‘Pythagorean’
approach. He defines two such analogies (Steiner 1998, pg. 54):
Pythagorean: a mathematical analogy between physical laws “not para-
phrasable at t into non-mathematical language” - that is, an analogy
between two mathematically described laws.
Formalist: “one based on the syntax or even orthography of the lan-
guage or notation of physical theories, rather than what (if anything) it
expresses” - that is, by the mathematical formalism used, irrespective of
what it represents.
The reliance on Pythagorean analogies leads Steiner to argue that the meaning
of ‘prediction’ has in fact changed: “Prediction today, particularly in funda-
mental physics, refers to the assumption that a phenomenon which is math-
ematically possible exists in reality - or can be realized physically", that the
“concept of ‘prediction’ has itself become thoroughly Pythagoreanized” (Steiner
1998, pg. 161, 162). The idea is that the Ω− was predicted due to a Formalist
approach, where it is “read off” from the mathematical formalism. It is from
this understanding of prediction that Steiner argues against the rationality of
pursuing naturalistic approaches to science.
Bangu reconstructs Steiner’s argument and identifies an additional premise
in the prediction of the Ω−. He calls the additional premise the “Reification
Principle” (RP) and claims that this is the Pythagorean basis of the prediction
(Bangu 2008, pg. 248):
If Γ and Γ′ are elements of the mathematical formalism describing a
physical context, and Γ′ is formally similar to Γ, then, if Γ has a physical
31
referent, Γ′ has a physical referent as well.
The reconstruction focuses on whether the prediction of the Ω−, proceeding
via the RP as opposed to interactions, can be accommodated by a “physical”,
i.e. naturalistic, methodology (Bangu 2008, pg. 250). One way that one might
attempt to do so is to adopt a pluralism about methodology, where the RP is
incorporated as a novel part of the methodology. This is the approach Bangu
takes Steiner to be adopting. There is a difficulty in doing this, however, as the
RP is held to be counter to a naturalistic approach to science for the reason
that “there is no naturalistic explanation why RP could work, while the very
idea of a higher-level correspondence between mathematical objects and real-
ity reminds us of numerology, astrology, and other dubious practices involving
reifying mathematics” (Bangu 2008, pg. 250). Bangu’s characterisation of the
naturalist has them rejecting the RP as false, insisting that “there are count-
less situations in physics when the urged ‘principle’ just does not work. In
addition, no one can explain (without appealing to some additional mystical
verbiage) why such a principle works, even when it does.” Further suspicion is
cast on Steiner’s approach and redefining of prediction by noting his project to
argue against naturalism more generally (Bangu 2008, pg. 251). Given these
problems, it appears that one should reject the Pythagoreanisation of predic-
tion, at least in terms of “a systematic and all-encompassing methodological
move in (particle) physics”. However, doing so causes serious problems, as
the D-N model of prediction cannot accommodate (as argued above) the Ω−
prediction. Bangu finishes his argument as follows:
while the D-N model just does not work, the idea to go beyond it and
adjust scientific methodology along Pythagorean lines (by taking the
RP principle on board) is marred by serious conceptual problems. The
acceptance of RP as a credible element of physical methodology implies
not merely an innocuous re-definition of the concept of ‘prediction’, but
32
the abandonment of the very idea of a naturalistic viewpoint about the
world.
Bangu offers three possible responses to this worry, in an attempt to main-
tain a standard naturalist view point. These are (Bangu 2008, pg. 251-255):
i) The RP played a heuristic role in the prediction of the Ω−, by generating
a hypothesis rather than proving the existence of the Ω−;
ii) The RP played a justificatory role in the prediction of the Ω−;
iii) Though the Ω− was predicted due to the mathematics, it was done so
through interpreting the mathematics. It is this interpretation that is
significant.
Bangu rejects each of these in turn, then asks rhetorically whether the fail-
ure of these responses means that we should embrace the strict naturalistic
methodology and reject the practice of physicists who use the RP as being
unscientific. He holds that such a response would be unrealistic. He also refers
to French’s claims about the D-N model being too simplistic here,26 suggesting
that if this is the case, then we should reject it. Bangu then argues that the
real problem is not the predictive practice itself, but rather (Bangu 2008, pg.
255):
about understanding this practice. The problem presented here is thus
not a direct challenge for the working physicists, but for the physicist-
qua-methodologist; that is, a challenge for her ability to propose a sys-
tematic philosophical/methodological framework able to accommodate
this episode. Consequently, our problem is an instance of a broader kind
of concern: what is the most appropriate way to construe the relation
between philosophical/methodological standards and scientific practice.
26French (1999), pg. 202.
33
Bangu’s suggestion is to reject the strict naturalistic methodology in favour of
what he calls “methodological opportunism” (Bangu 2008, pg. 256):
By embracing this form of opportunism, the scientist can agree that
the D-N model cannot account for these predictions, and she can also
accept that the central role played by the mystical-sounding (RP) in
this reasoning is at odds with other naturalist convictions scientists of-
ten endorse. Yet she believes that this form of opportunism offers her
resources necessary to get over this tension; that is, she believes she is
entitled to retain the freedom to ignore this kind of conceptual deadlocks
and profit, opportunistically, from whatever might lead (even if unlikely)
to scientific progress.
Given the above arguments of Bangu, the novel prediction problem can be
seen to have several strands to it. First it asks for an explanation as to why
Formalist/Pythagorean prediction is successful (if one is available)? (This
could be understood as asking for whether an explanation of why the RP
succeeds is available. Bangu’s naturalist claims that such an explanation is not
available.) Second, it asks whether we can provide a consistent methodological
understanding of how novel predictions are made? (Whether we can have a
consistent methodological treatment of the positron and Ω− predictions, of D-N
type and Formalist/Pythagorean type predictions.) Third, if we can have such
a consistent methodological treatment, can it be one that conforms with the
strict naturalistic view? Or must it be Bangu’s methodological opportunism, or
similar? Fourth, if we cannot have such a consistent methodological treatment,
must we accept Steiner’s pluralism, or similar?
34
2.3.4 Isolated Mathematics and Steiner’s
Epistemological Problem
The Pythagorean analogies introduced in the section above play a key role in
Steiner’s epistemological problem. He takes this problem to be the “unrea-
sonable effectiveness of mathematics in the natural sciences” highlighted by
Wigner (1960). In discussing the success of SU(3) in predicting the quarks,
given the use of Pythagorean analogies, Steiner states that:
Mathematicians, not physicists, developed the SU(3) concept, for rea-
sons unconnected to particle physics. They were attempting to classify
continuous groups, for their own sake.
Because the SU(3) story is not isolated, there are physicists who main-
tain that mathematical concepts as a group, considering their origin, are
appropriate in physics far beyond expectation. . . . It concerns the appli-
cability of mathematics as such, not of this or that concept. . . . It is the
question raised by Eugene Wigner about the ‘unreasonable effectiveness
of mathematics in the natural sciences’ Wigner (1960).
He then draws the following argument from Wigner (Steiner 1998, pg. 47):
(1) Mathematical concepts arise from the aesthetic impulse in humans.
(2) It is unreasonable to expect that what arises from the aesthetic
impulse in humans should be significantly effective in physics.
(3) Nevertheless, a significant number of these concepts are signifi-
cantly effective in physics.
(4) Hence, mathematical concepts are unreasonably effective in physics.
There are two threads the problem that I wish to draw out. First is the
issue of what I call ‘isolated’ mathematics - mathematics that originated in
isolation from considerations of applications. Steiner claims that SU(3) is a
35
piece of isolated mathematics. Second, the main force of Steiner’s epistemolog-
ical problem, and the anti-naturalist conclusions he draws from it, is the claim
that what decides whether something is ‘mathematical’ or not - the mathemat-
ical criteria - is based on human aesthetic (and tractability) considerations. I
will argue below that isolated mathematics, the first thread, is a problem for
accounts of applicability. First I will survey Bangu’s arguments that the prob-
lem of mathematical criteria, the second thread, is not an issue that needs to
be answered by accounts of applicability, but by philosophers of mathematics.
Consequently I will restrict the epistemological problem, and hence rename it,
to the problem of isolated mathematics.
Steiner argues that the use of Pythagorean analogies should lead to a re-
jection of naturalism. To explain the apparent ‘mystery’ of mathematics being
applicable at all, he concludes that there is some special connection between
the human mind and the world. Bangu argues that Steiner’s conclusion (cos-
mological anthropocentrism) rests upon two conditions (Bangu 2006, pg. 36):
First, if there is a record of systematic employment of mathematically
guided successful strategies in the invention of new theories, and no non-
mathematical strategy is available. Second, if these successful, mathe-
matically guided, strategies are indeed anthropocentric, but this holds
only if mathematics is an anthropocentric concept.
Where mathematical anthropocentrism is defined as follows (Bangu 2006, pg.
35):
Mathematical anthropocentrism is a view arrived at by examining how
mathematics develops as a discipline and not by analyzing specific math-
ematical concepts applied in physics. In this context, ‘anthropocentric’
is a predicate that applies not to particular mathematical concepts, but
to the nature of the criteria employed when concepts are added to the
corpus of the discipline.
36
Bangu provides two examples27 that show it is not the case in the history of
mathematics that the mathematical criteria are exclusively anthropocentric,28
thus Steiner’s argument is unsound. I agree with Bangu that the problem of
mathematica criteria is a problem for philosophers of mathematics; it does not
fall under the umbrella of problems of the applicability of mathematics. As I
am following the applications first approach, issues concerning what is or isn’t
mathematics are of no relevance to answers of the problems of the applicability
of mathematics.
Isolated Mathematics
The history of how mathematical concepts are discovered/created does not
depend upon one’s metaphysics. It is the fact that the mathematics originated
for purely mathematical reasons, as opposed to being discovered or created for
a specific physical situation that causes an apparent mystery. The reason that
isolated mathematics is claimed to be problematic is that there appears to be
no reason why it should allow any information to be found about the world
on previous accounts of applicability. Compare such a piece of mathematics
with the development of the calculus. This was developed in response to four
problems according to Kline: establishing the velocity and acceleration of a
particle at an instance; finding the tangent of a curve (and even establishing
a global definition of tangent); finding the maximum and minimum value of
functions; and the length of curves (Kline 1972, pg. 342-343). Solutions were
found independently to these problems and some links had even been found
between the solutions before the calculus, but the solutions lacked the general-
ity provided by the work of Newton and Leibniz (Kline 1972, pg. 356). Given
27The debate between Euler and d’Alembert over what a function is (Bangu 2006, pg.37-38), and over the Axiom of Choice (Bangu 2006, pg. 38-39).
28Some instances of establishing whether a concept is mathematical are explicitly an-thropocentric. He quotes Zermelo, who “insists that the [Axiom of Choice] is ‘necessary forscience’ (Zermelo 1967, pg. 187)” (Bangu 2006, pg. 40).
37
the history of the calculus, one can see the difference between isolated mathe-
matics and applied mathematics is that the applied mathematics is explicitly
discovered or constructed in connection with a problem and so is formulated
in a way conducive to being applied.
Whether a mathematical concept falls under the banner of ‘isolated math-
ematics’ is a matter of historical fact. Steiner claims that SU(3) is a piece
of isolated mathematics, but it is not as clear a case as Steiner presents it as
being. There is evidence that group theory in general was developed before
any applications: Maddy (2007) argues this, heavily relying on Kline (1972).
However, Wigner adopted group theory to work on symmetry in crystals and
French (2000) argues that the application of SU(3) to the light hadrons was
not a result of isolated mathematics. This is due to the work of Weyl and
Wigner in the early 20th century. They further developed group theory so that
it could be applied to both the fundamental symmetry principles of Quantum
Mechanics and various problems to provide simple (or even new) methods of
calculation. There are other cases of isolated mathematics, which are of a
less controversial nature. For example, the mathematics used to establish the
tightest packing possible for spheres has been used to model modem signals
and their associated noise as eight dimensional spheres.29
The problem of isolated mathematics is the requirement for an explanation
of how mathematics that originated in isolation from any considerations of
application can nevertheless be found to be applicable to physical situations.
This concludes the discussion of Steiner’s problems that I will answer in this
thesis. I will now turn to the semantic and mathematical explanation prob-
lems, and explain why they will not be answered. The semantic problem asks
29This is the most clear cut cases of isolated mathematics from seven examples found inRowlett (2011). Some of the examples given by Rowlett come close to a related problemdescribed by Maddy as one of ‘transfer’ (Maddy 2007, pg. 333). A solution to the isolatedmathematics problem should also solves this ‘transfer’ problem.
38
for a consistent logical interpretation of statements that involve mathematics.
The mathematical explanation problem asks whether mathematics contributes
explanatorily to science, and if so, how it is capable of doing so.
2.3.5 The Semantic Problem
Accounts of applied mathematics have to make sense of arguments that involve
both statements of pure mathematics and ‘mixed statements’ - statements
that have both mathematical and physical terms in them. One such mixed
statement is ‘the satellite has a mass of 100kg’. This statement might occur
in an argument over the force required to launch the satellite into orbit. The
semantic problem can be immediately recognised from such arguments. The
problem is the requirement for “a constant interpretation for all contexts -
mixed and pure - in which numerical vocabulary appears” (Steiner 1998, pg.
16). The problem arises as in pure mathematical statements numerical terms
appear to be singular terms that refer to numbers, while in mixed statements
they appear to be predicates (in this case, about the mass of the satellite).
Steiner’s solution to the semantic problem is to follow Frege in taking all
numerical terms to be singular terms (Steiner 1998, pg. 16-17).
Pincock holds that the mixed statement ‘the satellite has a mass of 100kg’
should be understood as follows: “the statement seems to be about the satellite,
the real number 100, the standard gram (assuming that there is such a thing),
and some complicated relation between them” (Pincock 2004a, pg. 139). While
it seems that Pincock wishes to follow Steiner in taking all numerical terms to
be singular terms, Pincock argues that the truth of mixed statements depends
on the relation between the world and the mathematical domain, rather than
the existence of numbers (Pincock 2004a, pg. 145). This implies that the
interpretation of the numerical term is secondary to the relation between the
physical world and the mathematical domain.
39
In his (2012) Pincock explicitly shies away from attempting to answer the
semantic problem, due to difficulties related to interpreting natural language
sentences and their relationship with scientific representation (Pincock 2012,
pg. 171-172). This is partly because the semantic problem goes further than
questions of how to interpret numerical terms. Applied mathematical argu-
ments also include functions, algebra and other mathematical terms in their
mixed statements. Establishing how to interpret all mathematical terms in a
consistent way goes beyond what Pincock wishes to achieve in his (2012), and
goes beyond what I intend to argue for in this thesis. I will therefore say no
more on the semantic problem.
2.3.6 The Mathematical Explanation Problem
I have left the problem of mathematical explanation to last for two reasons.
First, there is no single philosophical theory for all cases of explanation. Sec-
ond, it is not settled whether mathematics can explain physical phenomena.
This immediately leaves one unclear on how to frame the problem, and com-
plicates what form an answer might take. I will briefly outline the key ideas
and players in the debate over this issue, mostly by following Lange (2013).
Due to the amount of work required to settle the two debates, however, I will
not attempt to answer this problem in this thesis.
The typical starting point for a discussion concerning scientific explanation
is the Deductive-Nomological (D-N) model of Hempel.30 Here explanation
is understood to be a deductive argument, where the explanandum-event is
deduced (and therefore explained) from general laws and particular facts (the
premises of the argument being the explanans). A D-N explanation has the
following, syllogistic form (Hempel 1962, pg. 686):
30See Hempel (1962), Hempel & Oppenheim (1948)
40
C1,C2, . . . ,Ck
L1, L2, . . . , Lr
E
Unfortunately, the D-N model counts various non-explanations as explanatory,
e.g. a flag pole’s shadow counting as an explanation of its height. It has been
argued that the solution to this problem is to include causal relations in one’s
explanations. Lange points to several philosophers who hold the stronger view
that all scientific explanations are causal explanations (Lange 2013, pg. 486-
487).31
This view faces serious difficulty with accounting for mathematical expla-
nations. It is commonly held that mathematical explanations, whatever they
might consist in, make some appeal to a mathematical fact, feature or result.32
The key consequence of this is that mathematical explanations are held to be
non-causal. Any account of scientific explanation that is exclusively causal
will thus rule out mathematical explanations in principle. Other possible ac-
counts of explanation that might be capable of accommodating mathematical
explanation include the unification account,33 and abstract or structural ex-
planations34
The debate concerning whether mathematics can explain physical phenom-
31Lange quotes Salmon (1977, 1984), Lewis (1986) and Sober (1984) amongst others asbeing in support of this claim. He also points to the more recent accounts of Strevens (2008)and Woodward & Hitchcock (2003) due to their emphasis on causal connections.
32Baker’s (2005) appeal to the number theoretic theorem that prime periods minimiseintersection compared to non-prime periods is an example of this. Lange’s particular con-ception of mathematical explanations rejects this, arguing that distinctive mathematicalexplanations appeal to facts that are “modally stronger than ordinary causal laws” (Lange2013, pg. 491). This disagreement between Baker and Lange is relevant to the idea thatthere is no clear idea of what constitutes a mathematical explanation, rather than the pointI am making here.
33Kitcher (1981, 1989)34Pincock’s (2007) abstract explanations are called structural explanations by McMullin
(1978). In his (2012), Pincock refers to the explanation of the bridges of Königsberg asmathematical explanation, due to being an abstract (acausal) representation. Batterman(2001, 2010) can also be understood as offering up a structural account of explanation.
41
ena has proceeded in a series of papers focusing on the indispensability argu-
ment.35 The idea at the heart of the debate is that for mathematics to be
indispensable such that we can conclude that numbers exist, it has to be in-
dispensable in the right way, namely, explanatorily indispensable. The debate
then proceeds by the identification of putative mathematical explanations of
physical phenomena, such as the prime number life cycles of periodic cicada
and the hexagonal shape of honeycombs. Arguments are then put forward in
an attempt to determine whether the explanation really does depend on some
piece of mathematics, a mathematical fact, etc. Recent work, such as Lange’s,
has attempted to gain a firmer grip on the notion of mathematical explana-
tion, and identify what the putative explanations actually depend on to do
their explanatory work (e.g. causal facts, laws, or in Lange’s case, modally
stronger facts).
In this section I have distinguished nine problems that fall under the banner
of the problems of the applicability of mathematics. I’ve argued that three of
these problems do not need to be answered in this thesis, and that six need
to be. I will now answer the applied metaphysical problem and explain why
the answer to this problem should serve as a basis for an answer to the other
problems I will be answering.
2.4 Solving the Applied Metaphysical Problem
I have argued above that previous attempts to solve the problems of the appli-
cability of mathematics have approached the issues from the wrong direction.
Applications of mathematics by physicists do not generally involve consider-
ations of ontology. These questions are secondary to the application; they
35These papers include: Melia (2000, 2002), Colyvan (2002), Baker (2005, 2009) andSaatsi (2007, 2011).
42
ask what the mathematical statements refer to, rather than how the appli-
cations work. I have argued for the problems above to be framed in ways
which make as few assumptions about the ontology of mathematics as pos-
sible. Any solutions to these problems should be equally minimal in their
ontological commitments, preferably making no commitments at all. The first
step to solving these problems is to answer the applied metaphysical problem.
An ideal answer should be one which forms the basis for an account of math-
ematical scientific representation, which is capable of solving the problems of
representation and hopefully be extended to solve the other (semantic, math-
ematical explanation) problems. I believe that Structural Relation Accounts
(SRAs) of applicability can do this. These accounts do not commit one to be
a realist or anti-realist about mathematics, as, in general, these accounts are
compatible with numerous realist and anti-realist positions.
Before arguing for the SRAs, I wish to make note of Pincock’s analysis
of Steiner’s answer to the applied metaphysical problem. As Steiner endorses
a Fregean ontology of mathematics, his answer to the applied metaphysical
problem for counting is a one-to-one correspondence relation. This is extended
to the rest of mathematics via adopting a set-theoretic approach where we can
have impure sets, i.e. sets that contain physical objects as individuals (Steiner
1998, pg. 28). Pincock is rather unsatisfied with this as an answer to the
applied metaphysical problem (Pincock 2012, pg. 173, my emphasis):
If this set-theoretic solution is deemed adequate, then it shows how low
the bar is set to solve the [applied] metaphysical problem. Steiner raises
the issue by alluding to a gap between mathematics and the physical
world. A bridge across this gap need only show that mathematics is
related in some way to the physical world. But as Steiner’s own set-
theoretic response indicates, there is no requirement that the bridge do
anything else. It need not illuminate what, as [Pincock has] continually
put it, mathematics contributes to the success of science.
43
I agree with Pincock’s analysis here: an answer to the applied metaphysical
problem is straightforward. All it requires is a relation be provided between
the world and a mathematical domain. The requirement that the “bridge”
do anything else, i.e. restrictions on what type of relation might adequately
relate the world and the mathematical domain, comes from the other problems
of applicability. This is why the only restriction I place on an answer to the
applied metaphysical problem be that it is capable of being extended to answer
the other problems.
SRAs hold that the applicability of mathematics is due to structural rela-
tions between physical structures and mathematical structures. These struc-
tural relations are structure preserving: they take the structure of physical
entities or properties to areas of mathematics that display a given level of
structural similarity.36 For example, when numbers are applied to state the
length of some object, a structural relation will be involved. This relation will
have to take the structure of the length property of the object to the relevant
part of the real number structure. It will also have to include information
on the length property in terms of its unit. e.g. “that the mapping takes all
meter sticks to 1, all objects that are half as long as a meter stick to 12 , etc.”
(Pincock 2004a, pg. 147). There are various types of structural relations that
may fulfil the role required by applications of mathematics; isomorphisms and
homomorphisms are the most commonly appealed to structural relations.37
Which structural relations are taken to constitute the representation relation
36The simple explanation given here is naïve. As rightly pointed out by Bueno andColyvan, the parts of the world involved in our scientific theories are not always actualconstituents of the world. They adopt a standard understanding of a structure as “setof objects (or nodes and positions) and a set of relations on these)” and remind us that“the world does not come equipped with a set of objects (or nodes or positions) and setsof relations on those. [(The view of structure above originates from Resnik (1997) andShapiro (1997).)] These are either constructions of our theories of the world or identified byour theories of the world” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 347). How theories are capable ofcarving up the world in successful ways will fall under an account of representation and sowill be addressed in the next chapter.
37Loosely, an isomorphism maps all of the structure from the domain, D, to the codomain,D′. A homomorphism maps some of the structure of D to D′.
44
is one of the main distinguishing features of the different SRAs.
The structural relations involved in these accounts are taken to be external
relations. These are relations that do not “involve the criteria of identity of
the mathematical objects” (Pincock 2004a, pg. 145). Admitting only exter-
nal relations in applications of mathematics has the advantage of limiting the
ontological commitments one is required to make in understanding mathemat-
ical applications. An internal relation is defined thus: “a stands in an internal
relation R to b just in case aRb’s obtaining is involved in a’s criteria of iden-
tity” (Pincock 2004a, pg. 140). Pincock argues that using internal relations
in the hypothetical reasoning involved in science forces one to adopt modal
realism (Pincock 2004a, pg. 143-144). Given that I am attempting to make as
few ontological commitments about mathematics as possible I cannot justify
making commitments about modality. Field’s approach is described by Pin-
cock as a ‘no relation’ account. As Field denies that there are mathematical
entities there can be no relations between the physical world and mathemat-
ical entities. Pincock argues directly against Field’s account, rather than no
relation accounts in general. This begs the question as to whether no relation
accounts are in principle compatible with structural relation accounts. Bueno
and Colyvan hold this view, as they claim that Field would be able to make
use of the Inferential Conception (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 368). I will
not settle this debate here. I take it to be part of the work required to answer
the pure metaphysical question to establish which mathematical ontologies are
consistent with the solutions to the problems I argue for throughout this the-
sis. However I will commit to the claim that the structural relations are be
external relations, as this maintains my goal of making minimal ontological
commitments.
SRAs answer the applied metaphysical question as follows: the mathemat-
ical domain is related to the physical domain in virtue of a structural relation.
45
The world can be understood as conforming to a particular structure which
can be found in the mathematical domain. Any piece of applied mathematics
is applicable in virtue of this sharing of structure, via the structural relation.
This is a very straightforward, and general answer. Notice that it does not
explain how the structural relation is capable of identifying the structures, nor
how any particular piece of mathematics is applicable to any particular piece of
the world. The answer to these questions needs to be provided by an account
of representation, as questions over a particular piece of the world having a
particular piece of mathematics applied to it are actually questions over how
a particular piece of mathematics is capable of representing that piece of the
world.
2.5 Conclusion
In this chapter I have argued for nine individual problems that fall under
the applicability of mathematics. I have employed structural relations to an-
swer the applied metaphysical problem, with the promise that accounts that
make use of such relations can be developed that can answer the problems of
representation, the novel predictions problem and the isolated mathematics
problem. Specifically, these accounts need to be developed into accounts of
representation. But what are the requirements for a successful account of rep-
resentation? Are these requirements the same for all forms of representation,
or is there something unique about scientific representation? Can structural
relations satisfy these conditions? These are some of the questions I introduce
and begin to answer in the next chapter.
46
3 | Representation
3.1 Introduction
Representation is a very wide ranging concept. It appears not only in science,
but also in art, psychology, cognitive science and linguistics. As such there
are a huge number of issues involved with its philosophical analysis. The first,
and perhaps most serious, of these issues is whether there is a fundamental
representation relation, consistent across all types of representation. Possible
answers to this raise further questions: if there is a fundamental relation, what
distinguishes the various types of representation, if they can be distinguished
at all? If there is not a fundamental relation, then how are we to understand
the various activities that fall under the term ‘representation’?
In this chapter I will highlight only a few of these issues, those that I
take to be most pressing on scientific, and mathematical scientific, represen-
tation. I will follow the lines of argument set out in the literature in this
regard. I will begin my investigation by focusing on the question of whether
there is a “special problem of scientific representation”, a question posed by
Callender & Cohen (2006). By concentrating on this question I will be able
to explore whether there is something unique to scientific representation that
distinguishes it from putatively distinct types of representation, such as aes-
thetic representation, or whether there is a unified notion of representation. I
will argue in line with Contessa (2007; 2011) that one can identify epistemic
47
representation as a distinct form of representation, rejecting a unified notion
of representation. One can establish this distinction by noting that one uses
epistemic representation to gain information about a representational target
(and so the presence of surrogative inferences are a distinguishing feature of
epistemic representation), whereas aesthetic representation is used to convey
aesthetic values (e.g. beauty, emotions, etc.).
In following Contessa’s arguments, I reach a conclusion that is in part in
agreement with Callender and Cohen: there is nothing special about scientific
representation. However, it is in part in disagreement with Callender and Co-
hen, as I reject a uniform notion of representation; there might not be anything
special about scientific representation, but this is compared to other instances
of epistemic representation. Scientific representation is simply epistemic rep-
resentation undertaken by scientists or where the target is the world. There is
still a distinction between epistemic and other forms of representation. Con-
tessa’s arguments in favour of epistemic representation do not complete his
project, however. He identifies the need for an account of faithful epistemic
representation: representation where at least one of the surrogative inferences
from the representational vehicle to the target is sound. I will argue that, in
general, structural relation accounts of representation are the accounts that are
best placed to provide such accounts. Outlining and explaining how Pincock’s
Mapping Account ((2012)) and the Inferential Conception (Bueno & Colyvan
(2011), Bueno & French (2012)) can be understood as accounts of faithful
epistemic representation will be started in the next chapter. Evaluating the
ability of these two accounts to sufficiently explicate the relationship between
how faithful a representational vehicle is and its usefulness constitutes the rest
of the thesis.
48
3.2 What is Representation?
A first pass at analysing representation is “X represents Y ”. This, however,
is rather uninformative. We would like to know how X represents Y . In
virtue of what does X represent Y ? The first pass ignores a crucial element of
representation, that it involves agents. It is not so much that “X represents
Y ”, but that an agent uses X to represent Y . This is noted in the literature in
a couple of slogans. van Fraassen points to the analogous example of Mead’s1
reflections on teacups: “If there were no people there would be no teacups,
even if there were teacup-shaped objects. For ‘there are teacups’ implies that
‘there are things used to drink tea from’ which in turn implies ‘there are tea-
drinkers’.” (van Fraassen 2010, pg. 25). Giere makes use of the slogan “no
representation without representers” (Giere 2006, pg. 64, endnote 13). The
idea behind these slogans is that representation is an intentional activity: an
agent uses a entity to represent a target. This notion of use needs spelling out.
van Fraassen argues that ‘use’ encompasses many contextual factors, which
prompts us to look at the practice of representation to properly analyse ‘repre-
sentation’ (van Fraassen 2010, pg. 23). He argues that in some cases distortion
is crucial to the success of representation, yet in others is a cause of misrep-
resentation (van Fraassen 2010, pg. 13-14). The important conclusion from
this discussion is that representation is representation as. Our representations
involve using a vehicle to represent the target as something, where that some-
thing is contextually dependent upon our use, the aims we are seeking to fulfil
in adopting the representation. We can therefore expand our initial analysis of
representation to: “A uses X to represent Y as F ”;2 or “S uses X to represent
1van Fraassen references McCarthy (1984) for this observation.2van Fraassen initially presents a minimum schema of “X represents Y as F ” and argues
that this is the minimum form the schema takes (van Fraassen 2010, pg. 20). His idea isthat it gets modified according to the use at hand.
49
W for purpose P ”.3
I will argue below for the view that representation is an activity, where
the success of this activity is dictated by the purpose involved. That is, the
purpose to which someone adopts a representation dictates how successful that
representation is. ‘Purpose’ and ‘use’ are cashed out contextually. I will make
use of this to argue that the type of representation fills in some of the ‘purpose’
and ‘use’ criteria, and that this dictates what sort of representation relation
should be adopted for particular types of representation.
While agents are necessarily involved in representation, the above schema
do not make it clear how an agent should be involved in the representation
relation. Should they be related via the representation relation to both vehicle
and target? Should they be related by another relation to the only the vehicle,
or only the target? The answer to this question varies from account to account,
and so will be provided in the next chapter rather than here.
3.3 A Special Problem for Scientific
Representation?
Whether the above schema of “A uses X to represent Y as F ” should be
expanded or refined, and how, will depend on the answer to two questions.
First, are there any special features or purposes of representation in general?
Second, is there is some special feature or purpose of scientific representation
specifically, that sets it apart from other forms of representation? Fortunately,
attempting to answer the second of these questions will provide an answer to
the first.
The title of this subsection comes from the title of a paper by Callender
and Cohen (CC), who pose the problem specifically for scientific models. They
3Giere argues for this formulation. S is an individual or group of scientists, or a scientificcommunity, while W is an “aspect of the real world” (Giere 2006, pg. 60).
50
ask how can models be about the world given that they can have features the
world lacks, or lack features the world has. This is further complicated if it is
right that models are not truth-apt (or approximately-truth-apt). Their paper
distinguishes four questions that they take to be addressed by accounts of
scientific representation, though they do not think that any particular account
has addressed all four questions. These questions are (Callender & Cohen
2006, pg. 68-69):
(CQ) Constitution Question: What constitutes the representational re-
lation between a model and the world?
(DQ) Demarcation Question: What is distinct about scientific represen-
tation?
(NI) Normative Issue: What is it for a representation to be correct?
(EQ) Explanatory Question: What makes some models explanatory?
CC introduce the NI in response to what Morrison calls the “heart of the
problem of representation”, namely the question “in virtue of what do models
represent and how do we identify what constitutes a correct representation?”
(Morrison 2008, pg. 70). They argue that there are two problems in this quo-
tation: the ‘in virtue of’ question being the constitution question; and the
‘correct representation’ question broaching the normative issue. They further
argue that proponents of the ‘models as mediators’ view4 push too strongly on
the idea that the “representational and explanatory capacities of a model are
interconnected”.5 They agree with this claim if one understands the ‘intercon-
nection’ to be due to the NI and EQ presupposing answers to the constitutive
ones, the CQ and DQ, but no more than that (Callender & Cohen 2006, pg.
69).4See Morrison (1999).5Callender and Cohen point the reader to page 40 of Morrison’s (1999) in support of
this claim.
51
CC favour what I consider to be a unified account of representation. They
argue that “the varied representational vehicles used in scientific settings . . .
represent their targets . . . by virtue of the mental states of their makers/users”
(Callender & Cohen 2006, pg. 75). All representation is to be reduced to mental
representation. Thus there is no special problem of scientific representation
as it is merely reduced to mental representation where the agents doing the
representation are “scientists and their audiences are either fellow scientists or
the world at large” (Callender & Cohen 2006, pg. 83).
Due to their adoption of this unified account of representation, CC argue
that issues related to the misrepresentation involved in scientific models are
not as important as the literature makes them out to be. They do this by
appealing to examples from other types of representation (Callender & Cohen
2006, pg. 70). For example, they rhetorically ask whether linguists are con-
cerned that “the marks ‘cat’ aren’t furry or that cats lack constituents that
are parts of an alphabet” in order to make the point that such questions are
“bad”. If one is making use of a unified account of representation, they argue,
these questions should also be bad questions to ask of scientific representation.
Their argument against taking misrepresentation due to abstraction, idealisa-
tion, and so on, seriously is that all forms of representation have something in
common that make such questions inappropriate (perhaps even due to cate-
gory mistakes - representations are not the sort of thing one should ask such
questions of). Obviously a rejection of their unified account of representation,
and the adoption of a non-unified notion of representation, leads to these issues
having greater significance than CC take them to have, in accordance with the
other literature on scientific representation. These issues are most relevant to
the NI, though also play a role in establishing an adequate answer to the CQ
(as the representation relation has to be able to account for misrepresentation
in a satisfactory manner).
52
I agree with CC’s position on the relationship between the questions: an-
swers to the NI and EQ will depend upon the answers provided for the CQ and
the DQ. I will therefore first provide answers to the CQ and DQ in this chapter,
arguing that the answer to the CQ depends upon an answer to the DQ and
against a unified account of representation in the process of this. Although I
agree with CC’s conclusion that there is nothing special about scientific rep-
resentation, this is for different reasons, namely that scientific representation
is epistemic representation performed by scientists. Thus the more interest-
ing DQ is not what counts as scientific representation, but what counts as
epistemic representation. The answer to the CQ then must be capable of pro-
viding epistemic representation. I will, in the later chapters, argue that the
Inferential Conception and Pincock’s Mapping Account are plausible accounts
of faithful epistemic representation. An answer to the NI will be given in the
process of establishing which, if either, of the accounts succeeds as an account
of faithful epistemic representation. I will not address the EQ. In the context
of mathematical scientific representation, I see this question to be asking the
same as the mathematical explanation question of the previous chapter and so
will leave it for the same reasons provided there.6
3.3.1 The Constitution Question
I take the Constitution Question to be the most important question to answer
if one is attempting to establish a unified account of representation across all
forms of representation. If one is able to show that all types of representation
occur due to one type of relation then one has gone most of the way to provid-
ing a unified account of representation. Thus, if I wish to show that a unified
account of representation is not possible, I merely have to find an example of
representation that must proceed via a different type of relation to scientific
6See §2.3.6.
53
representation. One way of doing this is to pay attention to the purpose rep-
resentations are put to. If a particular type of representation has a distinct
purpose, this purpose supplies the answer to the DQ. Further, in order for the
representation to be able to fulfil that purpose, the representation relation for
different types of representation may have to be constituted by a different type
of relation. That is, an answer to the CQ will depend on an answer to the
DQ. The answer to the DQ will establish certain requirements that the repre-
sentation has to fulfil to be a representation of that type. The representation
relation must be capable of allowing the vehicle to fulfil these requirements.
Thus if I am able to identify a unique feature of scientific representation, I
hold that a unified account of representation is not possible.
My argument that scientific representation has a unique feature will proceed
by first surveying arguments put forward against the similarity and structural
relation accounts by Suárez and Frigg. I will begin with these arguments
due to the conclusion of the previous chapter, that accounts of representation
based on structural relations could be developed to answer the problems of
representation, novel predictions and isolated mathematics. I will find these
arguments to be successful against similarity accounts, but unsuccessful against
structural relation accounts. This survey will also indicate that inferences are
important to scientific representation. This will prompt me to switch focus to
the DQ, in order to establish the role inferences play in scientific representation,
namely whether they are a distinguishing feature of scientific representation.
There are three broad categories of accounts of scientific representation
which supply different answers to the CQ: similarity; structural relation; and
the Inferential Conception Approach. Giere (1988, 2004) argues for the rep-
resentation relation to be one of “similarity” or “fit” between a model and the
world. The structural relation approach includes those who propose the rela-
54
tion is some form of partial-morphism7, Pincock who takes there to be other
structural relations involved8 and various other authors who pick a particular
form of morphism.9 Finally, there is Suárez’ Inferential Conception Approach10
which involves refraining from specifying any particular type of relation, but
rather explicating conditions a particular type of relation would have to meet
in under to be a representational relation.
In the literature the similarity and structural relation accounts are often
held to fail for the same reasons. Suárez (1999, 2003) and Frigg (2002, 2006)
provide the same sorts of arguments along these lines. In Suárez’ case, these are
clearly meant to show that superiority of his Inferential Conception Approach.
I will follow the arguments of Suárez (2003) here.11 Five arguments against
the structural relation and similarity accounts are put forward:
The Argument From Variety: similarity & isomorphism do not ap-
ply to all representational devices;
The Logical Argument: similarity & isomorphism do not posses the
logical properties of representation;7Such as French (2003), Bueno & Colyvan (2011), Bueno & French (2011, 2012)8Pincock (2012).9For example Bartels (2006), who argues for using homomorphic mappings. I will not
discuss Bartels’ account, as I take it to collapse into a partial structures account and thereforefavour the Inferential Conception. The major problem with Bartels’ account is that thenotion of homomorphism he employes is too rigid to be able to accommodate all casesof misrepresentation. Bartels is aware of this, and in attempting to fully accommodatemisrepresentation he argues for a weakening in the conditions that hold for a homomorphismis occur (Bartels 2006, pg. 10). He then points to the partial structures framework as anexample of a structural account which has adopted this kind of weakening (Bartels 2006, pg.10, footnote 3). As Bartels’ account is not developed further along the lines of the partialstructures framework, it should be rejected in favour of the account that is, the InferentialConception.
10Suárez (2003).11Suárez offers his arguments against a specific version of the structural relation accounts,
namely a simple isomorphism account: “A represents B if and only if the structure exempli-fied by A is isomorphic to the structure exemplified by B” (Suárez 2003, pg. 227). He alsooffers them against a simple similarity account: “A represents B if and only if A is similarto B”. He does go on to argue that these arguments can be extended to the “weaker” and“amended” versions of the isomorphism account (Suárez 2003, §5-6). I respond briefly toSuárez’ claims in §3.3.1 - Further Arguments, and Amended & Weakened Versions. Theseweaker and amended versions are still less sophisticated than the accounts I will endorse inthe next chapter.
55
The Argument From Misrepresentation: similarity & isomorphism
do not make room for the ubiquitous phenomena of mistargeting and/or
inaccuracy;
The Non-necessity Argument: similarity & isomorphism are not nec-
essary for representation - the relation of representation may obtain even
if similarity & isomorphism fail.
The Non-sufficiency Argument: similarity & isomorphism are not
sufficient for representation - the relation of representation may fail to
obtain even if similarity & isomorphism hold.
The argument from variety can be avoided by proponents of the similarity
and structural relation accounts in a legitimate way, according to Suárez, by
leveraging a distinction he draws between the means of representation, and
the constituents (Suárez 2003, pg. 230):
Means of representation: At any time, the relation R between A and
B is the means of representation of B by A if and only if, at that time, R
is actively considered in an inquiry into the properties of B by reasoning
about A.
Constituents of representation: The relation R between A and B
is the constituents of the representation of B by A if and only if R’s
obtaining is necessary and sufficient for A to represent B.
What Suárez is identifying by the ‘means of representation’ is the relation be-
tween A and B that is used in the drawing of a particular surrogative inference
about the target (Suárez 2003, pg. 229).12 There are many relations that exist
between a representational vehicle and its target; one of these, say an isomor-
phism, might be useful for obtaining one set of surrogative inferences, while12Suárez follows Swoyer (1991) in taking “the main purpose of representation [to be]
surrogative reasoning”. I will assume that this is the case while discussing Suárez’ arguments,and will argue in favour of this being the case for scientific representations in §3.4.4.
56
another, say similarity (the sharing of properties), might be useful for obtain-
ing some other set of inferences. While addressing the CQ, only arguments
aimed at showing that similarity and isomorphism fail to be the constituents
of representation need to be answered. The means of representation is rele-
vant to the DQ; if structural relations cannot provide the means of scientific
representation, then they will not satisfy any particular conditions of scientific
representation that distinguish it from other forms of representation.
I will briefly outline these arguments below, and respond to them in ac-
cordance with the structural relation accounts in general (where possible). I
take these arguments to be damaging to the similarity account of represen-
tation.13 I will not outline the argument from variety due to my response to
the DQ. Below, I will argue that the answer to the DQ sets limits on the CQ,
specifically that the relation that provides the answer to the CQ has to be
capable of providing surrogative inferences. Thus I reject Suárez’ distinction
that one can draw surrogative inferences from a different relation to the one
that constitutes the representation relation. According to my arguments, for
structural relations to constitute the representation relation, they have to be
capable of providing the surrogative inferences in all cases of scientific represen-
tation, hence the distinction collapses, and the variety argument is implicitly
answered.
The Logical Argument
A representation relation is held to have a particular set of logical properties,
specifically that it is asymmetric, non-reflexive and non-transitive. Similar-
ity is reflexive and symmetric, while isomorphism is reflexive, symmetric and
13I do not mean to deny that one is capable of responding to these arguments fromthe position of a similarity account. Rather, due to the focus of this thesis, I take thesearguments and the responses from the structural relation accounts to be sufficient for meto adopt the structural accounts from this point on. As a result, I will not provide anyresponses in favour of similarity accounts.
57
transitive.
Structural relation accounts have various options open to them. Suárez’
argument is aimed at isomorphisms, so any structural relation account that can
make use of either partial isomorphisms or other morphisms than isomorphisms
(such as homomorphisms) should be able to provide the asymmetric and non-
transitive properties. The non-reflexive property is more challenging to provide
for the partial isomorphism account, as partial structures can be partially
isomorphic to themselves. However, if one considers the domain as a whole,
there are other factors at play that break the symmetry (that is, explain why
partial isomorphisms are not symmetrical) (Bueno & French 2012, pg. 887).
The Argument from Misrepresentation
This argument comes in two kinds, each of which involves two further types of
misrepresentation. The first is mistargeting. This occurs when there is a prob-
lem with the relationship between the target and vehicle. The first type, the
form of mistargeting I will call ‘mistaken target’, occurs when we “mistakenly
suppose the target of a representation to be something that it actually does
not represent” (Suárez 2003, pg. 233). The second type occurs when the target
of the representation does not exist. The second sort of misrepresentation is
the phenomenon of inaccuracy. This can occur either due to representations
leading to empirically inadequate results, or when a representation includes ab-
stractions and idealisations. Misrepresentation due to empirically inadequate
results is not a specific problem for accounts of representation. Rather it is
a general problem for philosophy of science. It is related to issues concerning
measurement, accuracy, and other practical aspects of science. The claim is
that the source of these inaccuracies is not the representation, but the informa-
tion fed into the representation: the data, the experimental results, etc. Any
source of inaccuracy due to the representation itself will fall under the banner
58
of abstraction and idealisation.
The idea behind the abstraction and idealisation type of inaccuracy is that
the representation vehicle does not accurately represent the target due to omit-
ting details (abstraction) or due to claiming something that is not true of the
target (idealisation). Suárez argues that similarity accounts can account for
abstraction and idealisation as such accounts only require the sharing of some
properties between target and vehicle. He also argues that the simple isomor-
phic version of structural accounts cannot account for this kind of misrepre-
sentation, as any difference between target and vehicle would result in there
being no isomorphism between the target and vehicle. Fortunately, there are
structural relation accounts that make use of other structural relations than
isomorphisms and so can potentially avoid this problem. I will address this
type of misrepresentation in more detail in chapters 6 and 7, focusing on how
these accounts can explain the relationship between the faithfulness and use-
fulness of representations, which is a crucial part of understanding how these
accounts fit into Contessa’s approach.
As an example of mistaken target misrepresentation, Suárez asks us to
imagine a friend dressed up as the subject of a painting, such as a painting
of Pope Innocent X. Here, we might mistake the painting to be representing
our friend, rather than the actual Pope Innocent X. Suárez states that the
main reason for the misrepresentation is the ignorance of “the history and the
true target of the representation” (my emphasis) (Suárez 2003, pg. 234). But
this isn’t simply a statement that the right causal history has to be in place
for a vehicle to represent its target, as, for Suárez, the existence of a relation
between vehicle and target does not produce a representation. Rather the
representation has to be used by an agent, and the agent must be capable of
using it: “the skill and activity required to bring about the experience of seeing-
in (the appreciation by an agent of the ‘representational’ quality of a source), is
59
not a consequence of the relation of representation but a condition for it”. The
point Suárez is attempting to make is that due to this essential involvement
of the agent in establishing a representation, the mere existence of a relation
(whether one of similarity or isomorphism) is not sufficient for a representation,
nor is it sufficient for explaining why a representation fails. The explanation for
the failure here is that the agent has only used extant relations of similarity (or
isomorphisms) between the painting and their friend to establish the target of
the painting, when the agent should have also paid attention to other relations
between the painting and potential targets to establish what the painting is a
representation of.
The above example is for artistic representation; Suárez also provides one
for scientific representation. He points to the specific case of a mathematician
providing a solution to a equation, which the mathematician is unaware is the
quantum state diffusion equation. The general point Suárez is attempting to
make is that on the isomorphism account, when “a [mathematician discovers]
a certain new mathematical structure”, if this new mathematical structure is
“isomorphic to a particular phenomenon [this] would amount to the discovery
of a representation of the phenomenon - independently of whether the math-
ematical structure is ever actually applied by anyone to the phenomenon”
(Suárez 2003, pg. 243). This should not be the case: our intuition is that the
mathematical structure only becomes a representation when it is applied to
the quantum phenomenon.
There are two problems with this example as a case of mistaken target. The
first problem concerns the way Suárez has introduced the isomorphism and
similarity accounts as attempts to ‘naturalise’ representation. The second is
due to a disanalogy between the artistic and scientific examples. The point that
a structural relation is insufficient for representation is admitted by proponents
60
of actual structural relation accounts.14 Yet critics of these accounts often
make the mistake of claiming that structural accounts do hold the existence
of structural relations between targets and putative vehicles to be sufficient.
This mistake is based on the belief that structural relation accounts attempt
to ‘naturalise’ representation. Suárez states this belief as follows (Suárez 2003,
pg. 226):
One sense in which we may naturalize a concept is by reducing it to facts,
and thus showing how it does not in any essential way depend upon
agent’s purposes or value judgements (Putnam (2002), van Fraassen
(2002)). The two theories that [Suárez criticises] are naturalistic in
this sense, since whether or not representation obtains depends on facts
about the world and does not in any way answer to the personal pur-
poses, views or interests of enquirers.
Given the number of times that proponents of the structural relations accounts
discuss pragmatic, context and heuristic concerns and the role of agents’ in-
tentions in representation this claim can be seen to not only be false, but also
destructive to the debate. By claiming that the isomorphic type accounts hold
this view, Suárez is arguing against a straw man position.
The disanalogy between the painting example and the quantum state dif-
fusion equation originates in a rejection of the straw man version of the iso-
morphism account. In the state diffusion case, Suárez argues (incorrectly)
that structural relation accounts hold there to be a representation due to the
isomorphism between the solution the mathematician produces and the phe-
nomenon, irrespective of agents using the solution as a representation. The
‘mistargeting’ here is that the solution is not targeted at anything, yet it ap-
pears as though it should be on the (straw man) isomorphism account. In
the painting case, the mistargeting is due to incorrectly identifying the target
14e.g. Bueno & French (2012).
61
of an actual representing vehicle. The painting already has a target, but the
agent has mistakenly identified the target. By rejecting the straw man version
of the isomorphism account, we see that there is no target for the new solu-
tion to be related to. There is no targeting occurring, never mind a case of
mistargeting. A better example would be a case where we had a solution to
the state diffusion equation obtained by a physicist for one particle, but we
mistakenly use the solution to describe a second particle. Here the solution is
being used as a representation, and so there is a target and another putative
target to mistakenly identify. What these two examples, spelt out in this way,
shows, however, is that the cause of the mistargeting in the mistaken target
case is the agent using the representation. They choose the wrong target. The
structural or similarity relations might contribute to this, but as these relations
are not held to be sufficient for representation, the error lies in another part of
the account (i.e. the intention of the agent who is using the representation).
This argument shows that the cause is not the structural relation, and so the
problem of mistaken target is not a special problem for structural accounts
of representation. The argument also shows that the fault in such cases lies
with the agents and their use of the representation vehicles. This solves the
problem.
The final type of mistargeting occurs when the target does not actually
exist. This has occurred frequently in the history of science. Examples include
phlogiston and the mechanical ether. Initially this seems like a large problem.
It asks the question of how we can hold there to be a representation of a target,
when that target does not exist? I will answer this question below, in §3.5, in
response to Chakravartty’s discussion of the issue.
62
The Non-necessity & Non-sufficiency Arguments
As we have seen above, the straw man version of the isomorphism account
claims that the existence of an isomorphism between vehicle and target estab-
lishes a representation. Thus any extant isomorphism is sufficient for repre-
sentation. What is missing in this case, according to Suárez, is an intention
for the vehicle to represent the target. Non-sufficiency is clearly accepted by
structural relation proponents: for example Bueno and French admit that this
is the case, and claim that other factors combine with the structural relation
to be jointly sufficient, where these factors are “broadly pragmatic having to
do with the use to which we put the relevant models [representations]” (Bueno
& French 2012, pg. 887).15
With respect to the non-necessity argument, anyone who admits a non-
uniform account of representation (in general) will be able to accept the non-
necessity of any type of relation to establishing representation. Perhaps Suárez’
point could be restricted to just scientific representations. This might be what
Suárez intends given that he advocates abandoning the search for “universal
necessary and sufficient conditions that are met in each and every concrete real
instance of scientific representations” (Suárez 2004, pg. 771). In response to
this charge, advocates of structural relation accounts and similarity accounts
admit the necessity of their preferred relation. The argument is straightfor-
ward: without such relations, the success of scientific representations would be
a miracle.16
15A similar move is available to the similarity account. As I explained above, Giere arguesfor representation being impossible without agents, which implies that he takes similarityrelations to be insufficient for representation (Giere 2006, pg. 60, 64 endnote 13).
16Bueno & French (2012) endorse Chakravartty’s (2009) argument along these lines(though they endorse structural relations while Chakravartty endorses a similarity relation).They go on to discuss the need for such a relation to ground the inferences that scientificrepresentations facilitate, a position I adopt and explore after discussing Contessa’s position.
63
Further Arguments, and Amended & Weakened Versions
To be fair to Suárez, he does recognise that there are versions of the similarity
and isomorphism/structural relation accounts that do not attempt to natu-
ralise representation. He describes these as amended versions, accounts that
employ a notion of ‘representational force’, which he defines as (Suárez 2003,
pg. 237):
A’s capacity to lead a competent and informed enquirer to consider
B as the representational force of A . . . [Representational forces] are
determined at least in part by correct intended uses, which in turn are
typically conditioned and maintained by socially enforced conventions
and practices: A can have no representational force unless it stands in a
representing relation to B; and it cannot stand in such a relation unless
it is intended as a representation of B by some suitably competent and
informed inquirer.
These amended versions avoid the non-sufficiency argument. The logical argu-
ment might also be avoided. Suárez’ formulation of the amended versions of
the structural relation and similarities accounts involves the additional condi-
tion of A’s representational force pointing at B. The avoidance of the logical
argument depends upon how one explicates intended use. The other argu-
ments, however, are claimed to continue to apply. While the accounts I will
look at do not adopt Suárez’ notion of representational force, their authors
do discuss the intentions of representing agents, and the relationship between
representations and intentions on their accounts.
Suárez also recognises that there are structural relation accounts that em-
ploy other structural relations than isomorphisms. He discusses the use of ho-
momorphisms and partial isomorphisms as possible representation relations,
though he finds them wanting. Homomorphisms are claimed to be able to cope
with “partially accurate models”, and so avoid the abstraction and idealisation
64
version of the argument from misrepresentation. It is also held to weaken
the non-necessity argument (though I do not take this argument to have any
force), but suffers from the other arguments. In particular, homomorphism
does not avoid the logical argument due to being reflexive. Fortunately, one
might leverage the notion of representational force (or similar) to avoid this
problem.
Possible Solutions to the CQ
I take the above discussion to show that the main arguments against the struc-
tural relations account are not successful against suitably refined versions of
such accounts, such as those I will outline in the next chapter. I do take the
arguments to tell against an account of similarity, however. Thus in order to
answer the constitution question we are left with a choice between Suárez’ ac-
count of representation and a structural relation account. Suárez’ account of
representation is explicit in not attempting to establish necessary conditions,
in particular in claiming that a particular type of relation is necessary for rep-
resentation (Suárez 2004, pg. 771). He formulates his Inferential Conception
Approach (ICA) as:
[Inf] A represents B only if:
(i) the representational force of A points towards B, and
(ii) A allows competent and informed agents to draw specific inferences
regarding B.
As such, it does not make any sense to ask whether the ICA provides an answer
to the CQ; it is compatible with any putative representation relation, provided
that the relation can, for the representation in question, allow for the “specific
inferences” to be drawn.
Thus in order to argue for the structural relation accounts, one would have
to either: a) show that structural relations are the best candidates for the
65
representation relation in all instances of scientific representation (i.e. it is the
relation that provides the inferences in the most accessible or efficient way); or
b) that structural relations are the only relation that provide the inferences.
a) is obviously weaker than b), and b) requires a response to the non-necessity
argument (which may be restricted to scientific representation). Suárez’ po-
sition and my counter argument rest on the assumption that inferences play
an essential role in scientific representation. Such an assumption might form
part of, if not the, answer to the DQ. Thus I will now turn to the DQ and
argue that the establishment of surrogative reasoning is a distinctive feature
of scientific representation.17
3.3.2 The Demarcation Question
The DQ, as set out above by CC, asks “what is distinct about scientific repre-
sentation?” CC’s answer is as follows (Callender & Cohen 2006, pg. 83):
Plausibly scientific representation is just representation that takes place
when the agents are scientists and the audience are either fellow scientists
or the world at large.
What this means for CC is that the demarcation problem is transformed from
concerning scientific representation to science itself: it is “ the demarcation”
problem of science. CC reach this conclusion because they believe that all
representation can be reduced to a form of mental representation. Thus there is
nothing special about scientific representation other than the fact that it occurs
exclusively within the domain of science, or that it is a form of representation
performed by scientists.
The issue then, is whether there is anything unique about scientific repre-
sentation that prevents it from being reduced to some fundamental represen-17At least this is a distinctive feature of epistemic representation, of which scientific
representation is a subspecies.
66
tation (as CC presume there is not). Above I claimed that this unique feature
would turn out to be the ability to draw inferences. Further, to prevent reduc-
tion to another type of representation, it appears that these unique features
must be provided by the representation relation required by the particular type
of representation. i.e. that scientific representation has the unique feature of
allowing inferences to be drawn about the target by the representing vehicle,
and these inferences are dependent upon a structural relation from the target
to the vehicle.
A challenge to taking such surrogative inferences to be distinctive of scien-
tific representation can be found in Contessa (2011), where Contessa argues for
a demarcation between epistemic and non-epistemic representations based on
surrogative inferences. While this distinction is complimentary to my project,
it actually cuts across the demarcation that CC discuss and forces me to agree
with their conclusion but for different reasons. I will outline Contessa’s ar-
guments for epistemic representations in the next section and argue that one
should answer the DQ in terms of epistemic representation performed by sci-
entists.
3.4 Contessa’s Approach
Contessa is initially concerned with the demarcation between epistemic and
non-epistemic representations, and later between merely epistemic and faithful
epistemic representation. Epistemic representation is characterised by Con-
tessa as follows (Contessa 2007, pg. 52-53):
A vehicle is an epistemic representation of a certain target for a certain
user if and only if the user is able to perform valid (though not necessarily
sound) surrogative inferences from the vehicle to the target.
and as follows (Contessa 2011, pg. 123, endnote 7):
67
To say that a representation is an epistemic representation is just to say
that it is a representation that is used for epistemic purposes (i.e. a
representation that is used to learn something about its target)
An example of non-epistemic representation is aesthetic representation, i.e.
how a painting represents its subject. These categories of representation are
not mutually exclusive, in that an epistemic representation can also be un-
derstood to be an aesthetic representation. Contessa’s concern is the main
purpose of the representing vehicle here, so talks in broad terms about epis-
temic or aesthetic representation. Thus establishing something as an epistemic
representation does not prevent it from being an aesthetic representation - one
can clearly gain information from a painting - yet the main purpose of the
painting is aesthetic, so in broad terms the painting is taken to be an aesthetic
representation.
Contessa takes the main symptom of epistemic representation to be the
ability of agents to perform surrogative reasoning about the target of the rep-
resentation by the representational vehicle. A key feature of epistemic repre-
sentations is that the surrogative reasoning does not need to provide sound
inferences about targets in order for the vehicles to be successful epistemic
representations. The difference between the soundness and unsoundness of
the inferences can be cashed out in terms of the faithfulness of the represen-
tations (Contessa 2007, pg. 54). A completely faithful representation is one
where all the surrogative inferences we can draw from the vehicle to the target
are sound. A partially faithful representation is one that provides some sound
inferences from the vehicle to the target, but not all inferences. A partially
faithful representation can still be a successful representation.18 Contessa uses
this distinction between merely epistemic and faithful epistemic representation
to pose two questions that he thinks an account of representation should be
18These are the concepts I will adopt and use to answer the NI.
68
able to answer:
I) What makes a vehicle an epistemic representation of a certain target?
II) What makes a vehicle a more or less faithful epistemic representation of
a certain target?
He also claims that these questions have been conflated into a single question
concerning the ‘problem of scientific representation’.
It is here that Contessa’s distinction between epistemic and non-epistemic
representation comes into direct conflict with the DQ. This is made most ex-
plicitwhen he states: “another way in which the label ‘scientific representation’
can be misleading is that it seems to imply that something sets aside sci-
entific representations from epistemic representations that are not scientific”
(Contessa 2011, pg. 124, footnote 10). The task at hand, then, is to look
at Contessa’s arguments for his preferred account of epistemic representation
and faithful epistemic representation, and see whether he establishes epistemic
representation as distinct from, or encompassing, scientific representation.
Contessa claims that there are three rival accounts epistemic representa-
tion: the denotation account; Suárez’ ICA; and the Interpretational Account.
He also holds there to be two (“some related”) accounts of faithful epistemic
representation: the similarity account and the structural account.
Contessa’s project can understood as the attempt to answer the following
questions:
1. What are, if any, the necessary and sufficient conditions for epistemic
representation?
2. Do the necessary and sufficient conditions for epistemic representation
have any necessary and sufficient conditions themselves?
3. What are, if any, the necessary and sufficient conditions for faithful epis-
temic representation?
69
Contessa answers 1 and 2 in his (2007) and claims that structural relations will
play a role in answering 3 in his (2011). He is clear that the first two questions
can be separated from the third, in that the questions of how to establish
epistemic representation and how to establish faithful epistemic representation
are two distinct questions and should be addressed separately (Contessa 2007,
pg. 67-68), (Contessa 2011, pg. 124). This is partly due to their different
nature: epistemic representation is binary, either we have it or we do not,
whereas faithful epistemic representation is gradable (Contessa 2007, pg. 55).
3.4.1 Necessary & Sufficient Conditions for Epistemic
Representation
Contessa argues for denotation to be a necessary condition for epistemic repre-
sentation but not a sufficient condition (Contessa 2011, pg. 125). An example
Contessa uses is the use of an elephant to represent the London Underground.
While one can denote the London Underground via the elephant, it is not clear
how one could use the elephant to perform surrogative inferences about the
network. This example indicates that there are further conditions to satisfy in
order to have a case of epistemic representation.
The ICA can be understood to be providing the second necessary condition
for an epistemic representation. For example in Suárez (2004) the necessary
condition is given as an agent being able to perform surrogative influences from
the vehicle to the target. Contessa believes that this approach is “ultimately
unsatisfactory” and in fact involves an ad hoc move: the ICA “seems to turn
the relation between epistemic representation and surrogative reasoning upside
down” (Contessa 2011, pg. 125). Take the example of the map of the London
Underground. The ICA suggests that the map represents the Underground
network in virtue of the fact that you can perform surrogative inferences from
it to the network. However, Contessa argues, the reverse seems to be the case:
70
one can perform surrogative inferences to the network from the map in virtue
of the fact that the map is an epistemic representation of the network. i.e.
the ability to draw surrogative inferences depends on a map being epistemic
representation, not the other way around. “If you do not take [the map] to be
an epistemic representation of the London Underground network in the first
place, you would never try to use it to perform surrogative inferences about
the network.”
Contessa’s position on the ICA can be summarised as the view that an ac-
count of epistemic representation should explain what makes a certain vehicle
into an epistemic representation of a certain target (for a certain user) and
how in doing so it enables the agent to perform surrogative inferences about
the target. The ICA, however, takes the ability to draw surrogative inferences
to be basic and so lacks this explanation.
Given the initial characterisation of an epistemic representation19 and the
above, it is clear that a necessary and sufficient condition for epistemic repre-
sentation is that a vehicle allows an agent to perform valid surrogative infer-
ences about the target. This allows question 2 to be rephrased as follows:
2′ What are the necessary and sufficient conditions for an agent to be able
to use a vehicle to draw valid surrogative inferences?
I will outline Contessa’s answer to 2′ in the next section.
3.4.2 Necessary & Sufficient Conditions for Surrogative
Inferences
In order to provide an account of epistemic representation, Contessa proposes
his Interpretational Account, where a vehicle is an epistemic representation
19“A vehicle is an epistemic representation of a certain target for a certain user if andonly if the user is able to perform valid (though not necessarily sound) surrogative inferencesfrom the vehicle to the target” (Contessa 2007, pg. 52-53).
71
of a certain target for a certain user (i.e. a user can use the vehicle to draw
valid surrogative inferences) if and only if: the user takes the vehicle to denote
the target; and the user adopts an interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the
target.20 The DDI account of Hughes (1997)21 is selected as a possible reference
for an account along similar lines. The key feature of the Interpretational
Account for the present discussion is that “the adoption of an interpretation of
the vehicle in terms of the target [is] what turns a case of mere denotation into
one of epistemic representation” (Contessa 2011, pg. 126). The interpretation
of the vehicle in terms of the target supposedly provides the user with a set
of “systematic rules to ‘translate’ facts about the vehicle into (putative) facts
about the target”. This set of systematic rules is the Interpretational Account’s
explanation of the relation between epistemic representation and surrogative
reasoning. I will now outline the Interpretation Account and draw out the
necessary and sufficient conditions it fulfils for surrogative inferences.
Contessa argues for the following (Contessa 2007, pg. 57):
A vehicle is an epistemic representation of a certain target (for a certain
user) if and only if the user adopts an interpretation of the vehicle in
terms of the target.
He takes the adoption of an interpretation to be what grounds the ability to
perform surrogative inferences from vehicle to target and so is the necessary
and sufficient condition for obtaining an epistemic representation. His argu-20The story is slightly more complicated however. To avoid accusations of ‘naturalising’
representation, Contessa points out that a vehicle is an epistemic representation for a user,rather than an epistemic representation “in and of itself” (Contessa 2007, pg. 53). Contessathus claims that the representation relation in the case of epistemic representation is atriadic relation between the vehicle, a target and a (group of) user(s). Above, in §3.3.1 -The Argument from Misrepresentation, I mentioned this way of avoiding a naturalisationof representation and responding to the non-sufficiency argument. I have yet to providedetails for handling intentions - I will do this when I discuss the accounts in detail in thenext chapter. Contessa opts for one of the possible ways to accommodate the intentions ofagents: he includes the agent as a relata of the (epistemic) representation relation. Not allof the accounts follow this approach.
21This account is a major influence on the structural relation account of Bueno & Colyvan(2011) and Bueno & French (2012).
72
ments for this position consist in cashing out the notion of interpretation, and
showing how adopting an interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target
is necessary and sufficient for the performance of surrogative inferences from
vehicle to target.
A loose first pass of cashing out the notion of interpretation, what I will
call the ‘general notion’, is that a user “interprets a vehicle in terms of a target
if she takes facts about the vehicle to stand for (putative) facts about the
target”. This can be considered a good starting point, which we can tighten
up in certain respects to obtain quite specific and detailed characterisations of
interpretation. One such characterisation is an analytic interpretation. This
is a set-theoretic understanding of interpretation. It proceeds by the user first
identifying the following (Contessa 2007, pg. 57-58):
• A (nonempty) set of relevant objects in the vehicle: ΩV = oV1 , . . . , oVn
• A (nonempty) set of relevant objects in the target: ΩT = oT1 , . . . , oTn
• A (possibly empty) set of relevant properties of and relations among
objects in the vehicle: P V = nRV1 , . . . ,
nRVm, where nR denotes an n-ary
relation; properties are construed as 1-ary relations.
• A set of relevant properties and relations among objects in the target:
P T = nRT1 , . . . ,
nRTm
• A set of relevant functions from (ΩV )n to ΩV (ΨV = nF V1 , . . . ,
nF Vm),
where nF denotes an n-ary function, and (ΩV )n is the Cartesian product
of ΩV with itself n times.
• A set of relevant functions from (ΩT )n to ΩT (ΨT = nF T1 , . . . ,
nF Tm)
A user must then satisfy the following conditions:
1. The user takes the vehicle to denote the target;
73
2. The user takes every object in ΩV to denote one and only one object in
ΩT and every object in ΩT to be denoted by one and only one object in
ΩV ;
3. The user takes every n-ary relation in P V to denote one and only one
relevant n-ary in P T and every n-ary relation in P T to be denoted by
one and only one n-ary relation in P V ;
4. They take every n-ary function in ΨV to denote one and only one n-ary
function in ΨT and every n-ary function in ΨT to be denoted by one and
only one n-ary function in ΨV .
His in (2011), Contessa opts for a slightly different description of the sit-
uation. He states that the interpretational account has two necessary and
sufficient conditions: the user takes the vehicle to denote the target; and the
user adopts an interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target (Contessa
2011, pg. 126). This might seem a different set of conditions, as he takes a
denotation relation to a separate condition to interpretation. The difference,
however, is only one of bookkeeping; the same relations will still be present,
just that in his (2007) version of the Interpretation Account the denotation
relation will be included under a composite interpretation relation, whereas in
the (2011) version it is separated from the composite interpretation relation.
Both relations are part of the composite representation relation in either case.
As evidence of this being an insignificant difference, I point to Contessa’s ex-
planation of how one might understand the Rutherford model of the atom to
be an epistemic representation. He states that on the interpretation account,
the Rutherford model is an epistemic representation of an atom if and only if
(Contessa 2007, pg. 59):
(1) they [the user] take the model as a whole to stand for the atom in
question . . . , (2) they take some of the components of the model to stand
74
for some of the components of the system, and (3) they take some of the
properties of and relations among the objects in the model to stand for
the properties of and relations among the corresponding objects in the
system (if those objects stand for anything in the atom).
It appears that Contessa separates out the relation of denotation between vehi-
cle and target (call this the ‘global denotation relation’) in order to emphasise
that the vehicle has to be aimed the a particular target we use to use the
vehicle for in order to obtain valid inferences. He explains that, without the
global denotation relation, one might still be able to draw inferences from a
vehicle to a target due to some general features of the vehicle. For example,
subway maps are designed with a general interpretation in mind, and so can be
epistemic representations for subway networks other than the ones they were
explicitly designed for (Contessa 2011, pg. 126, endnote 14).
So far, so good, but in order to properly explain how adopting such an
interpretation allows one to draw valid surrogative inferences from a vehicle
to a target something implicit in this characterisation of interpretation needs
to be made explicit. That is, adopting an analytic interpretation results in the
adoption of a set of inference rules (Contessa 2007, pg. 61):
Rule 1: If oVi denotes oTi according to the interpretation adopted by
the user, it is valid for the user to infer that oTi is in the target if and
only if oVi is in the vehicle;
Rule 2: If oV1 denotes oT1 , . . . , oVn denotes oTn , and nRVk denotes nRTk
according to the interpretation adopted by the user, it is valid for the
user to infer that the relation nRTk holds among oT1 , . . . , oTn if and only if
nRVk holds among oV1 , . . . , oVn
Rule 3: If, according to the interpretation adopted by the user, oVi de-
notes oTi , oV1 denotes oT1 , . . . , o
Vi denotes oTi , and
nF Vk denotes nF Tk , it
is valid for the user to infer that the value of the function nF Tk for the
75
arguments oT1 , . . . , oTn is oTi if and only if the value of the function nF Vk
if oVi for the arguments oV1 , . . . , oVn .
An inference is then valid if it is in accordance with Rule 1, 2 or 3.
So much for cashing out of the notion of interpretation and providing an
explanation for why it provides valid surrogative inferences from vehicle to tar-
get. Contessa still has to provide arguments for why adopting an interpretation
is necessary and sufficient. As Contessa explicitly states that he does not want
to give the impression that all interpretations are necessarily analytic, he only
provides arguments for why adopting an analytic interpretation is sufficient
for epistemic representation (Contessa 2007, pg. 58, 63). I therefore take his
argument for adopting an interpretation to be necessary for surrogative infer-
ences to be the claim that one must take facts about the vehicle to stand for
(putative) facts about the target in order to infer anything from the vehicle to
the target (i.e. the general notion).
Contessa argues for the sufficiency of the analytic interpretation by look-
ing for a case where a user adopts an analytic interpretation of the vehicle yet
cannot draw valid inferences about the target, i.e. the vehicle fails to represent
(qua epistemically represent) the target. Key to understanding his arguments
that such situations do not exist is the recognition of the distinction between
mere epistemic representation and faithful epistemic representation. Most im-
portantly, that epistemic representation requires only valid inferences, while
faithful epistemic representation requires sound inferences, where soundness is
cashed out in terms of the inferences being valid and their conclusions true of
the target (Contessa 2007, pg. 51).22
22Contessa defends his account by showing how the Rutherford model of the atom canbe understood as an epistemic representation of a hockey puck sliding on the frozen surfaceof a pond (Contessa 2007, pg. 64-65). These arguments are informative, but do not need tobe summarised here.
76
3.4.3 Faithful Epistemic Representation
The account of faithful epistemic representation that Contessa favours is a
structural (relation) account. Contessa presents a characterisation of such an
account as follows: if a vehicle is an epistemic representation of a target for
a certain user, then, if some specific morphism holds between the structure of
the vehicle and the structure of the target, then the model is a faithful rep-
resentation of that target. This seems to imply that Contessa takes epistemic
representation to involve a denotation relation and an interpretation relation,
and faithful epistemic representation to involve a relation of denotation, of
interpretation, and a structural relation.
After this review of Contessa’s arguments concerning epistemic and faith-
ful epistemic representation, one may ask the following questions. Can a clear
distinction be drawn between scientific and epistemic representation? If not,
is scientific representation a subspecies of epistemic representation? And if it
is, is scientific representation identical with faithful epistemic representation?
If not, what distinguishes scientific representation from faithful epistemic rep-
resentation?
3.4.4 Scientific and Epistemic Representation
In the discussion above concerning the CQ I noted that Suárez’ position and
my (future) arguments in favour of the structural relations accounts of scien-
tific representation rested (and would rest) on the assumption that establishing
surrogative reasoning was a unique feature of scientific representation. As I
also noted above, this assumption is a solution to the DQ. However, the pre-
ceding review of Contessa shows this assumption to be unjustified; surrogative
reasoning appears to be a unique feature of the broader category epistemic
representation. Contessa frequently makes use of the example of a map of
77
the London Underground. There can be no denying that a map is a repre-
sentational vehicle that allows one to gain information about a target, and to
gain information through surrogative reasoning. Yet any attempt at calling a
map a scientific representation would undermine the term ‘scientific represen-
tation’ if it is to have any special meaning at all. I therefore take Contessa
to have shown that surrogative reasoning is not a unique feature of scientific
representation, but of epistemic representation.
Surrogative reasoning might be a necessary but insufficient condition for
scientific representation. I therefore take scientific representation to be a sub-
species of epistemic representation. Thus there is no clear distinction to be
drawn between epistemic and scientific representation.
The example of the Underground map can be used to answer the third
and fourth questions. An old map of the Underground that does not have
modern stations or lines on it is a less faithful representation of the modern
Underground than a modern map. However, one can still draw some true
conclusions about the Underground from the older map. Similarly, scientific
representations of varying faithfulness can be used to draw true conclusions
about their targets (Contessa discusses this with the example of the model
of the toboggan with differing gravitational sources included in the model).
From just this brief description of different examples of varyingly faithful epis-
temic representations it should be clear that simply because a representation
is partially faithful has nothing to do with whether it is classed as scientific or
not. Thus the answer to the third question (is scientific representation iden-
tical with faithful epistemic representation) is negative because we can have
partially faithful, non-scientific representations.
A definite answer to the fourth question (what distinguishes scientific rep-
resentation from faithful epistemic representation) is challenging to give. It
is not clear that all cases of scientific representation are cases of faithful epis-
78
temic representation. It might be the case that all scientific representations are
partially faithful, in that they facilitate at least one sound inference. It is not
immediately clear how to settle this issue. For any representation to be useful
in any way it must facilitate at least one sound inference about its target. The
issue is how to evaluate whether scientific representations that are typically
taken to be completely inaccurate representations give any sound inferences.
Examples of such representations are those that suffer from non-existent tar-
gets, such as the mechanical ether. It is reasonable to take such representations
as providing some sound inferences, namely empirically adequate predictions
at a certain time, even though any inferences concerning the ontology of the
target are completely unsound. I will discuss this issue in more detail in the
next section.
It is therefore the case that we cannot answer the DQ by only pointing to
surrogative reasoning. This is a distinguishing feature of epistemic represen-
tation, and while all scientific representation is at least epistemic representa-
tion, not all epistemic representations are scientific ones. I suggest that the
DQ should be answered in a similar way to CC: what distinguishes scientific
representation from other forms of representation is that it is epistemic rep-
resentation performed by agents who are scientists, whose audience is other
scientists or the world. The above discussion has gone a good way to showing
that this is a suitable answer.
Before turning to answer the CQ with this answer to the DQ in mind, I
will survey Chakravartty’s discussion of what he calls informational and func-
tional accounts of representation.23 His discussion at first appears supportive
of Contessa’s approach and the answer to the DQ I wish to endorse. However,
he raises an issue that he claims requires further investigation than he is able
to provide in his paper. I attempt this further investigation below, and argue
23Chakravartty (2009).
79
that Contessa’s approach fits in with his earlier arguments, and that the issues
can be settled via Contessa’s approach.
3.5 Chakravartty: Informational vs. Functional
Accounts of Representation
Chakravartty reviews a different way of answering the DQ, where the DQ is
phrased as “what . . . are the ‘essential’ properties of a scientific representa-
tion?” (Chakravartty 2009, pg. 198). He considers there to be two, supposedly
conflicting, categories into which one can place the various attempts to answer
this question that can be found in the literature. He names these categories
informational and functional. Accounts that can be classed as informational
are those that claim a “scientific representation is something that bears an
objective relation to the thing it represents, on the basis of which it contains
information regarding that aspect of the world”. The most general version
of the informational approach will appeal to relations of similarity. Accounts
to be classed as functional emphasise the functions of representations: “their
[the representations’] uses in cognitive activities performed by human agents in
connection with their targets” (Chakravartty 2009, pg. 199). These functions
can be divided into further categories: the demonstrations and interpretations
of target systems the representations allow; and the inferences they permit
concerning aspects of the world.
In his discussion of this distinction, Chakravartty highlights three argu-
ments, “charges”, against the informational accounts that are intended to show
the superiority of the functional accounts. These are a (familiar) charge of
non-necessity, a (familiar) charge of non-sufficiency, and the charge that there
are essential functions to scientific representation that informational accounts
80
remain silent about and are therefore “defective”.24 Chakravartty deals with
the third charge by arguing that this worry is predicated on the confusion
between the means and ends of scientific representation. To summarise his
argument: informational and functional theories focus on different aspects of
the question ‘what are scientific representations?’ Informational theories con-
sider representations as knowledge bearing entities, whereas functional theories
consider representations to be a set of knowledge exercising practices. These
different conceptions of representation are not contradictory; in fact they are
complementary, thus questions asked of these two conceptions require answers
that must be taken together to form a general understanding of scientific rep-
resentation.
I agree with Chakravartty’s responses and accept his arguments to all of
the charges. I also agree that the dichotomy between informational and func-
tional accounts of scientific representation is a false one. The natural next
step, given the rejection of the dichotomy, would be to endorse an account of
scientific representation that had features of both the informational and func-
tional accounts, namely intentionality, a similarity or structural relation, and
surrogative reasoning. One such approach is Contessa’s. While Chakravartty
is willing to entertain this idea, he cautions against it being straightforward.
There is an issue that requires further investigation before this kind of account
can be adopted without difficulty.
The issue concerns cases of mistargeting, where the target does not ex-
ist such as in the case of phlogiston or the mechanical ether, and accounts
of representation that make use of a gradable notion of accuracy or success.
24I have briefly covered Chakravartty’s response to the non-necessity charge above in§3.3.1 - The Non-necessity & Non-sufficiency Arguments. He appeal’s to Goodman’s claimthat similarity is “no sufficient condition representation” (Goodman 1976, pg. 3-4) and pointsout that it does not appear to be part of any informational account that similarity orisomorphism (or any other such relation) is sufficient for representation (Chakravartty 2009,pg. 205). He also appeals to the role of agents’ intentions in supplying the non-symmetryand non-reflexive properties to the representation relation.
81
Chakravartty argues that it is unclear how to treat such cases. Take the model
of the mechanical ether. Chakravartty claims that further work has shown it
to be about as inaccurate as it is possible to be. He offers the reader two re-
sponses. One might conclude that the model was an unsuccessful/inaccurate
representation of its intended system (due to the system not existing), yet is
still a scientific representation. Alternatively one might conclude that such a
model is undoubtably scientific (due to its presence in previous scientific inves-
tigations), but due to how unsuccessful/inaccurate it was, it is not a represen-
tation, merely a model (we were mistaken in taking it to be a representation)
(Chakravartty 2009, pg. 209). Chakravartty takes this problem of mistargeting
due to the non-existence of the target to be significant, as whether we count
models which mistarget in this way will determine the stance one takes with
respect to the necessary and sufficient conditions for scientific representation.
For example, if one accepts a distinction between mere representation and ac-
curate representation, then one can exclude the information relation from the
necessary conditions for mere representation and include in the necessary con-
ditions for accurate representations. However, if one rejects this distinction,
then one might hold that there is some threshold of accuracy for a represen-
tation to count as scientific, and hence maintain that the information relation
is a necessary condition for scientific representation.
I take Contessa’s distinction between epistemic and faithful epistemic rep-
resentation to fit the distinction between mere and accurate representation. As
outlined above, Contessa’s approach does entail different necessary and suffi-
cient conditions for epistemic (mere) representation from faithful epistemic
(accurate) representation. We can now decide on whether scientific represen-
tation should be a subspecies of epistemic or faithful epistemic representation:
I have already argued that we should consider scientific representation to be a
subspecies of epistemic representation. The issue is whether all scientific rep-
82
resentations can be considered partially faithful representations. Remember
that even one sound surrogative inference allows us to call a representation a
partially faithful representation.
Accepting that all scientific representations are epistemic representations
allows us to call cases like phlogiston and the mechanical ether scientific
representations: they are epistemic representations performed by scientists.
Chakravartty anticipates such a response to his worry, in that he describes
‘scientific representation’ as a “term of art”, such that “we may define it as
best serves the various philosophical uses to which it is put”, defending this
conventional approach against a definitive approach by pointing to conflicting
intuitions (Chakravartty 2009, pg. 210). I personally hold the intuitions that
misrepresentations are still representations, and that the term ‘scientific rep-
resentation’ does not connote anything distinctive. I believe that Contessa’s
approach provides a justification for these positions, contra the ideas that there
is there is a minimum level of accuracy for a representation to count as sci-
entific and that a putative representation’s target has to exist for it to be an
representation.25
Part of how Contessa’s approach provides this justification is the separa-
tion of faithfulness and success (or usefulness) (Contessa 2011, pg. 130). By
grounding faithfulness in terms of the soundness of the surrogative inferences,
we can understand faithfulness as involving the information relation. Indeed,
Contessa points to this himself, arguing for a structural relation account of
faithful epistemic representation. By grounding success in heuristic, contex-
tual and pragmatic terms, we can have successful representations that are
wildly unfaithful and unsuccessful representations which are very faithful. A
25In the next chapter, I will be arguing that Pincock’s Mapping Account from his (2012)fits into Contessa’s approach. Here I wish to note what Pincock says concerning phlogistonas an early indication that his account will fit: he claims that such representations havecontent, such that had phlogiston existed their representations would have been correct.Due to phlogiston not existing, however, their representations all turned out to be incorrect(Pincock 2012, pg. 26).
83
further advantage can be found by looking at two different ways in which we
might evaluate the success of the mechanical ether representation. We might
evaluate the representation along instrumentalist lines or considering whether
it manages to ‘save the phenomena’,26 or along ontological lines. The mechan-
ical ether representation had some success in providing accurate predictions,
and so might be considered successful according to the instrumentalist/saving
the phenomena line. However, it failed completely in terms of the ontology
it posited. Contessa’s approach lets us explain why this is the case. The
mechanical ether, as a partially faithful epistemic representation allowed for
some sound surrogative inferences to be drawn concerning the behaviour of
light. However, all surrogative inferences that we could draw from it concern-
ing the ontology of light were found to be unsound. Evaluation of the success
of a representation, then, involves restricting ourselves to certain sets of the
surrogative inferences we can draw from the vehicle, and establishing the num-
ber of sound inferences in that set. The total number of sound and unsound
inferences is not a guide to the success of the representation; we need a context
within which to weigh the number of sound and unsound inferences, and in
this sense success is contextual. The context often comes from the aims of the
user of the representation.
In not recognising that accuracy and success as separate, Chakravartty is
unable to make use of this response to the mistargeting worry. I think that part
of the reason he does not recognise this separation is that he holds an intuition
that scientific representation should be ontologically committing. That is, any
scientific representation should always be evaluated in terms of the ontology it
prescribes. This is made clear in his definition of the informational accounts in
terms of there being an “objective relation” between the vehicle and the target.
26I have in mind something like the distinction van Fraassen draws between the notionsof appearance and phenomena when he briefly discusses the idea of ‘saving the phenomena’(van Fraassen 2010, pg. 8).
84
I want to reject this assumption. I think that we can evaluate a scientific
representation in terms of its ability to save the phenomena separately from
its ontology. Developing this position further, however, will require further
work on what the target of the representation is. A simple reading of scientific
representations would be that the target is the world (indeed, this seems to be
the root of Chakravartty’s complaints that the mechanical ether representation
is inaccurate). A more sophisticated reading will take into account phenomena
and data models, particularly if one adopts the Semantic View of theories.
There is clearly more work to be done here. I will leave this discussion at this
point as it is straying into issues of realism, which are unrelated to my main
argument.
Above I have surveyed Chakravartty’s discussion of the DQ and informa-
tional & functional accounts of representation. I have argued that Contessa’s
approach solves the issue of mistargeting qua non-existent targets Chakravartty
raises for accounts with gradable notions of accuracy. In doing so, I also ar-
gued that Contessa’s approach justifies a rejection of the intuition that there is
anything significant to the term ‘scientific representation’, in that it allows for
one to hold onto the intuition that a misrepresentation is still a representation.
This leads me make my answer to the DQ more precise: scientific represen-
tation is epistemic representation performed by scientists, when their target
is other scientists or the world. However, any successful scientific representa-
tion will require some sound inferences to be drawn. Given the arguments I
put forward concerning misrepresentation and the context dependence of the
notion of ‘success’, it seems plausible that all scientific representations can be
considered partially faithful. Therefore, while the answer to the DQ requires
only that we can draw valid surrogative inferences, our answer to the CQ will
require that we can draw sound surrogative inferences.
85
3.6 Conclusion: Answering Callender and
Cohen’s Questions
3.6.1 Answering the Constitutive Question
In this chapter I have argued that structural accounts of representation survive
the counter arguments of Suárez, that scientific representation should be con-
sidered epistemic representation performed by scientists and it is highly likely
that all scientific representations should facilitate at least one sound inference.
I have also argued that the answer to the DQ will set out the conditions that
the representation relation must fulfil. In the case of scientific representation,
the relation must be capable of providing sound surrogative inferences. In
order to do this, the relation must be capable of providing an interpretation
of the representational vehicle in terms of the target, and there must be some
kind of denotation involved. There is no requirement that all of this is achieved
by a single relation: the representation relation can be a compound relation.
For example, Contessa argues for the relation responsible for epistemic repre-
sentation to consist in a denotation relation and the relation(s) responsible for
his analytic interpretation. He then also claims that structural mappings will
constitute the faithful epistemic representation relation.27
I think that Contessa has the right of it: structural relations are the best
candidates for constituting the relation responsible for faithful epistemic repre-
sentation. I also agree that there needs to be some kind of denotation involved,
and that the agents’ intentions need to be accommodated. There is of course
the advantage that adopting a structural relational account of representation
fits with the answer to the applied metaphysical question I provided in the
previous chapter. There I argued that a structural relation could account for
27He also includes the intention of the agents.
86
how mathematics can be applied to the world. But I also argued that the
relation would need to be able to account for mathematical representation as
these issues are the more interesting and difficult issues that need answering.
I have shown in this chapter that structural relations are up to this job as
well. How we are able to accommodate the gradable nature of faithfulness
and usefulness will be investigated in the next chapter. Issues that are still
outstanding relating to the problem of misrepresentation due to abstraction
and idealisation will also be addressed in subsequent chapters.
3.6.2 Answering the Normative Issue
The final question to address is the NI, which asks “what is it for a representa-
tion to be correct”? CC introduced this problem while discussing the idea that
models are not truth-apt. This causes a problem for answering this question.
This problem is avoided due to the notion of adopting an interpretation of the
vehicle in terms of the target, and by evaluating the soundness of the surrog-
ative inferences we draw via the representation. This means that we don’t
discuss the representation being ‘true’, but rather of it being faithful, partially
faithful or entirely unfaithful. We can judge the conclusions of our inferences
as being true or false of the target, as they will be fully interpreted statements
about the target. For example, a numerical prediction from a mathemati-
cal representation will actually be a statement about the physical value of a
measurement, not a statement about the representation. Again, however, the
specifics of how to answer this question will depend on the account to hand.
A full answer to this question will therefore have to wait until later chapters.28
I will now turn to setting out two accounts of scientific representation that
employ structural relations as their representation relations: the Inferential
28§6.2 for the Inferential Conception, and §4.2.2 and §7.2.1 for the PMA.
87
Conception of Bueno, Colyvan and French, and Pincock’s Mapping Account.
In the next chapter I will outline the accounts and explain how they can be
considered accounts of faithful epistemic representation.
88
4 | Structural Relation Accounts
of Representation
4.1 Introduction
In the previous chapter, I argued that scientific representation should be un-
derstood to be a subspecies of epistemic representation, and suggested that
it is a subspecies of faithful epistemic representation. I accepted Contessa’s
arguments against Suárez, that surrogative inferences have to be grounded in
something, that we have to explain in virtue of what we are capable of using
a representing vehicle to draw surrogative inferences about a target. Con-
tessa argued that interpreting a representational vehicle in terms of a target
grounded the drawing of surrogative inferences, and that the ability to draw
valid surrogative inferences with a vehicle made that vehicle an epistemic rep-
resentation for that user. He also argued that a partially faithful representation
is an epistemic representation that allows for the drawing of some sound infer-
ences from the vehicle to the target. In this chapter I will be arguing for how
to understand two accounts of structural representation as providing accounts
of epistemic and faithful epistemic representation.
Contessa talks of requiring an account of faithful epistemic representation
in addition to an account of epistemic representation. We need an account
of faithful epistemic representation in order to explain how models represent
89
phenomena, when those models contain various types of misrepresentations. It
is not clear whether Contessa is claiming that an account of faithful epistemic
representation is a separable account that provides only the faithful part of
such representation, or if it is capable of providing the epistemic part as well.
This is an issue which will be briefly explored in the course of the wider argu-
ment.
The structure of this chapter is as follows. I will outline the details of the
Inferential Conception (IC) and Pincock’s Mapping Account (abbreviated to
‘the PMA’ for ‘the Pincock Mapping Account’) in §4.2. I will then attempt
to fit these two accounts into Contessa’s approach. In §4.3.1 will argue that
while the IC cannot provide an account of epistemic representation, it can
provide an account of faithful epistemic representation. This is because the IC
only involves structural relations and the intentions of agents. The interpreta-
tion of the vehicle is provided by the structural relations, which also provide
the gradable notion of faithfulness. In §4.4.1 I will outline that the partial
structures framework used by the IC allows it to provide a measure on the
faithfulness of a representation, and promise to account for the relationship
between the faithfulness and soundness of a representation in Chapter 6. In
§4.3.2 I will argue that the PMA fulfils the criteria set out by Contessa for
analytic interpretations. In this section I also discuss how Pincock’s views on
representational inferences can be accommodated by Contessa’s approach. In
§4.4.2 I will argue that despite initial problems, the PMA can be considered an
account of faithful epistemic representation, providing the gradability of faith-
fulness through the use of various types of structural relations, in a manner
akin to that recommended by Contessa. I am only able to sketch how both
accounts can provide faithful epistemic representation in this chapter. A full
investigation is pursued in the subsequent chapters, where the question of how
faithfulness and usefulness are related is explored in detail. A choice between
90
the accounts rests on the result of this investigation.
4.2 Structural Mapping Accounts of
Representation
4.2.1 The Inferential Conception of the Applicability of
Mathematics
The IC draws inspiration from Suárez’1 and Swoyer’s2 claims concerning sur-
rogative inferences, Hughes’ DDI account of representation3 and the partial
structures programme.4 One can see these three influences playing key roles
in the account: representation occurs due to the existence of multiple (partial)
mappings between (partial) structures, for the purposes of facilitating surrog-
ative inferences. The account itself closely resembles the structure of Hughes’
DDI account, with three stages involved in the representation of a vehicle by
a target.5
In this section I’ll provide an outline of the partial structures framework
and how it is employed by the account at each of its three stages. As I am
concerned with the mechanics of representation, ontological considerations will
not be pursued. A defence of the majority of the ideas behind this account has
already been presented in response to the various arguments against structural
1Suárez (2003, 2004)2Swoyer (1991)3Hughes (1997)4Bueno (1997, 1999), Bueno et al. (2002), da Costa & French (2003), French (1999,
2003), French & Ladyman (1998) amongst others.5The account is initially presented as being a way of understanding how mathematics
can be applied to the world in Bueno and Colyvan’s (2011). It was quickly developed toaccommodate wider issues involved in mathematical representation and scientific representa-tion more generally by Bueno and French in their (2011) and Bueno & French (2012). Thesepapers also helped to locate the IC within the partial structure version of the Semantic Viewadvocated by Bueno and French. This development does not alter the core principles of theaccount, so where the papers talk of an “application” of mathematics, “applying” or “applied”mathematics, I will talk of representation via mathematics, a mathematical representationor (representational) vehicle.
91
accounts in the previous chapter (see §3.1), though it might be useful to re-
member that the IC is not a purely structural account. Explicit (and frequent)
use is made of its allowance for “additional pragmatic and context-dependent
features in the process of applying mathematics” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg.
352).6
The Partial Structures Framework7
A partial structure is typically represented as a set-theoretic construct, A =
⟨D,Ri⟩i∈I , where D is a non-empty set, Ri is a partial relation and i ∈ I is
an appropriate index set. A partial relation Ri is a relation over D which is
not necessarily defined for all n-tuples of elements of D. We can understand
each partial relation R as an ordered triple, ⟨R1,R2,R3⟩. R1, R2 and R3 are
mutually disjoint sets, with R1 ∪ R2 ∪ R3 = Dn, such that: R1 is the set of
n-tuples that belong to R, R2 the set of n-tuples that do not belong to R, and
R3 is the set of n-tuples for which it is not defined whether or not they belong
to R. When R3 is empty, R is a normal n-place relation that can be identified
with R1.
For partial truth, we can understand a partial structure as the set-theoretic
construct: X = ⟨Z,Rj,P ⟩j∈J , where Z is a non-empty set, Rj is a partial
relation, and j ∈ J is an appropriate index set. P is a set of sentences of
a language L which is interpreted in X .8 As before, for some j, Rj might be
empty (as it was for i = 3, R3, above). P may also be empty.
The set that the partial relations are defined over, D and Z respectively,
denote the set of individuals in the domain of knowledge9 modelled or repre-
6Bueno and French go through the arguments presented by Suárez and defend the ICagainst them in §9 of their (2011).
7For this section I will reproduce the introduction to partial structures from Bueno et al.(2002) and da Costa & French (2003).
8As we are dealing with partial structures in terms of truth, we have to employ modeltheoretic machinery. See Hodges (1997) for an introduction to model theory.
9With respect to the domain of knowledge, ∆, rather than understanding D as simplydenoting the set of individuals, we might also understand this in terms of of a ‘data structure’,
92
sented in the particular case at hand, and the family of partial relations, Ri or
Rj, model or represent the various relationships that hold between the indi-
viduals. P can then be regarded as a set of distinguished sentences of L, which
might include, for example, observation statements concerning the domain.
A partial structure, A, can be extended into a total structure B (or X to
Y). This total structure can be described as an A-normal structure, where
B = ⟨D ′,R′i⟩i∈I , if:
(i) D = D ′;
(ii) every constant of the language is question in interpreted by the same
object both in A and in B; and
(iii) R′i extends the corresponding relation Ri, in the sense that each R′
i is
defined for every n-tuple of objects of its domain.
For the partial structures used for partial truth, there is a fourth condition:
(iv) If S ∈ P , then B ⊧ S
where S is a sentence in L. This can be understood more loosely as follows: a
total structure Y is called X -normal if it has the same similarity type as X , its
relations extend the corresponding partial relations of X , and the sentences P
are true (in the Tarskian sense, as the notion of partial truth is supposed to be
an extension of Tarskian truth) in Y . This allows us to say that S is partially
true in X , or in the domain that X partially modelled or represents, if there
is an interpretation I of L in an X -normal structure Y and S is true in the
Tarskian sense in Y . This can also be phrased as the claim that S is partially
true in the structure X if there exists an X -normal Y in which S is true in the
correspondence sense. If S is not partially true in X according to Y , then S
is said to be partially false in X according to Y . A major advantage of this
as in (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 17).
93
notion of partial truth is that it “captures the gist of the idea of a proposition
being such that everything occurs in a given domain as if it were true (in the
correspondence sense of truth)” (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 19).
The notion of partial structures also includes the notions of partial iso-
morphisms and homomorphisms. Let A = ⟨D,Ri⟩i∈I and B = ⟨E ,R′i⟩i∈I be two
partial structures (with Ri = ⟨Ri1,Ri2,Ri3⟩ and R′i = ⟨R′
i1,R′i2,R
′i3⟩ as above).
We can define a function f from D to E as a partial isomorphism between A
and B if:
1 f is bijective; and
2 for x and y in D:
(2.i) Rk1xy → R′k1f(x)f(y); and
(2.ii) Rk2xy → R′k2f(x)f(y).
If Rk3 and R′k3 are empty, i.e. we no longer have partial structures but ‘total’
structures, we recover the standard notion of isomorphism.
We can define f from D to E as a partial homomorphism between A and
B if for every x and every y in D:
(1) Rk1xy → R′k1f(x)f(y); and
(2) Rk2xy → R′k2f(x)f(y)
Again, if Rk3 and R′k3 are empty we recover the standard notion of homomor-
phism.
Outline of the Inferential Conception
The IC is predicated upon the claim that “the fundamental role of applied [i.e.
representational] mathematics is inferential” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 352):
94
by embedding certain features of the empirical world into a mathematical
structure, it is possible to obtain inferences that would otherwise be
extraordinarily hard (if not impossible) to obtain.
In order to accommodate this inferential role, the proponents of the IC claim
that establishing mappings between the target system and the mathematical
structure is “crucial”. One of the problems with such a claim that is frequently
raised is that the target system does not possess a structure, in that it is not a
set-theoretic object, nor a mathematical object.10 The solution to this problem
is to adopt the attitude that the world has an assumed structure: “that there is
some natural structure of the [target system] or that an appropriate structure
can be imposed upon the [target system]”, and that this is not a trivial matter,
nor that there is a unique structure (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 353, endnote
17).11
Adopting the position that there is an assumed structure in the target sys-
tem is only part of what Bueno and Colyvan mean by “empirical set up”. They
claim that the IC is idealised in two respects, one of which is that there is a
“sharp distinction” between the empirical set up and the mathematical struc-
tures.12 This is because “very often the only description of the set up available
will invoke a great deal of mathematics”, which leads to the situation where
it is “hard to even talk about the empirical set up in question without leaning
heavily on the mathematical structure, prior to the immersion step” (Bueno
& Colyvan 2011, pg. 354). One should therefore understand the empirical
set up to be “the relevant bits of the empirical world, not a mathematics-free
description of it”.
The core of the IC is a three step scheme, which can be understood as an
10Bueno and Colyvan recognise this problem, noting that “the world does not comeequipped with a set of objects . . . and sets of relations on those” objects (Bueno & Colyvan2011, pg. 347).
11For a criticism of the SMA along the lines of non-unique structures, see Baker (2012).12The second is dealt with below.
95
Empirical Set Up
Immersion 1 Immersion 2
Model 1 Model 2
Interpretation 2Interpretation 1
Derivation
Figure 4.1: A schematic diagram representing the three steps of the Inferential Con-ception, with the immersion and interpretation steps iterated.
extension to Hughes’ DDI account (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 353-354):
Immersion: establish a mapping from the empirical set up to a con-
venient mathematical structure. This step aims to relate the relevant
aspects of the target system to the appropriate mathematical context.
The choice of mapping is a contextual matter, dependent upon the par-
ticular details of the representation.
Derivation: consequences are drawn from the mathematical formalism,
using the structure obtained in the immersion step. Bueno and Colyvan
consider this the key point of the application process.
Interpretation: the mathematical consequences (obtained in the deriva-
tion step) are ‘interpreted’ in terms of the initial empirical set up. Here,
an interpretation is understood to be a mapping from the mathematical
structure to the initial empirical set up. The mapping does not need
to be the inverse of the one used in the immersion step. No problems
emerge so long as the mappings are defined for suitable domains.
The immersion step does not have to be immediately followed by the deriva-
tion step. One can iterate the immersion mapping, to embed the first math-
96
ematical structure into another (Bueno & French 2012, pg. 91-92).13 The
immersion mapping is what gives representations their content on the IC. As I
will explain, this content is uninterpreted mathematics. The content of repre-
sentations is what constitutes the models manipulated in the derivation step.
The general idea behind structural relation accounts of representation is that
the content of representations is itself structural. Thus the models are under-
stood in terms of their structural properties.
The derivation step initially seems simple: one performs some mathemat-
ical manipulations on the structured obtained from the immersion step and
obtains a result. I will refer to this result as the ‘resultant structure’. It
is important to get clear about what is being manipulated in this step. In
mapping from the initial empirical set up to the model used in the derivation
step, via the immersion mapping, we shift from interpreted mathematics in the
empirical set up to uninterpreted mathematics in the derivation model. The
derivation step therefore involves the manipulation of an uninterpreted math-
ematical structure and so the resultant structure is uninterpreted. This is why
the interpretation step is required: we have to map the resultant structure
to an empirical set up which provides physical interpretation for the mathe-
matics.14 However, there might be a problem for this understanding of the
IC when one takes into account the second respect in which the IC is ide-
alised. This is the realisation that “the mathematical formalism often comes
accompanied by certain physical ‘interpretations” ’ (Bueno & Colyvan 2011,
pg. 354). This threatens both the definition of interpretation as a mapping
from a mathematical structure to an empirical set up, and the notion that the
13As can be seen in Fig 4.1, this requires the interpretation mapping to be iterated aswell. This is because the first model is mapped to the second model by the second immersionmapping. The resultant structure will therefore be ‘of’ the second model. In order to gainany physical insights from this resultant structure, we have to interpret in terms of the firstmodel.
14A problem arises if one does not provide such a mapping: “without an inverse mappingthe mathematics remains uninterpreted and says nothing about the empirical system it issupposed to be representing” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 349, endnote 8).
97
content of a representation on the IC is a pure mathematical structure. I will
return to this possible problem in Chapter 6 when I outline what I call the
epistemic problem for the IC.15 For now, I propose that these ‘interpretations’
are not strictly interpretations, but rather heuristic, pragmatic and contextual
considerations that will help guide the choice of manipulations that will be
performed on the mathematical structure obtained from the immersion step.
The interpretation step is straight forward. However when discussing how
the IC is able to provide a framework within which one can conceptualise the
selection of appropriate mathematical structures, Bueno and Colyvan claim
that “we need not think of the immersion step as being logically prior to the
interpretation step” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 356-357). This appears to
be because the selection of an appropriate mathematical structure arises from
going back and forth between the immersion and interpretation steps. This
claim threatens the idea that the content of representations on the IC is a pure
mathematical structure. The threat comes from the possibility that we end
up with interpreted mathematics in the derivation step due to the interpre-
tation step coming before the immersion step. In response to this, I propose
that for the initial application of mathematics to a target system, the first
time such a system is represented with mathematics, the immersion step must
come first. This is because there is no mathematical structure to map to the
target system via an interpretation mapping. Once the initial immersion and
interpretation mappings have been performed, a chain of iterations of the three
steps is established, leading to the situation where any non-initial immersion
or interpretation mapping is not logically prior to any other (granting that the
structures involved allow this). The reason for adopting this line of argument
is that I see maintaining a pure, uninterpreted, mathematical structure as the
content of representation on the IC as vital to its success when addressing
15See §6.2.2, page 168.
98
idealisations, as well as the only viable response to the epistemic problem.
Finally, I turn to the how he IC accounts for the relationship between the
agent and the representational vehicle and target. The challenge is to identify
what the intention relates in a non-problematic way. Does the intention relate
the agent to the vehicle, to the target, to both, or to the structural relation
itself? Is the intention part of the representation relation? One potential
problem that can arise from including the intention that a vehicle represents
a particular target in the representation relation is that this may prevent the
vehicle from representing other targets (Bueno & French 2011, pg. 886-887).
The idea is that by including the intention of the scientist that a vehicle repre-
sents a particular target would fix that target as the only target for the vehicle.
For example, if we privileged the intention of Einstein that special relativity
represents the behaviour of rods and clocks, then Minkowski would not have
been able to use the theory to represent four dimensional spacetime. Bueno
and French argue that in order to avoid such a situation not only should we
not include the intention of agents in the representation relation, but that “we
must allow for pragmatic or broadly contextual factors to play a role in select-
ing which of these relationships to focus on”, and that the intentions should
be separated from the underlying mechanism (i.e. the partial morphisms) so
that the original representing agent’s intentions can be “overridden” by other
agents who wish to use the vehicle to represent some other target.
The approach favoured by Bueno and French is for the intention to pick
out the structural relation between the target and vehicle. i.e. to pick out the
relevant partial morphisms responsible for the immersion and interpretation
steps. One might worry that this approach to intentions does not solve the
non-sufficiency argument. After all, merely pointing to an isomorphism was
the cause of the insufficiency claim. The response to this challenge is to high-
light the role the intentions of the agent, along with contextual and pragmatic
99
factors, play in identifying the structure of the final empirical set up.
On the IC multiple interpretations of a resultant structure correspond to
different partial mappings from that resultant structure to different partial
structures in the empirical set up. The intentions of the scientist and other
pragmatic and contextual factors will pick out a particular partial morphism
and therefore a particular empirical set up, i.e. a particular target. Remember
that an empirical set up is a particular part of the world, suitably described
in terms of interpreted structures. The interpretation associated with the
empirical set up, along with contextual factors such as what use the agent is
putting the representation to, pick out that empirical set up from the other
structures that the resultant structure is partially -morphic to. Thus on the
IC the representational relation consists in the immersion and interpretation
mappings, and the intentions of the agents relate the agents to these mappings.
Both these mappings and the intentions are necessary for a representation to
occur, along with the pragmatic and contextual considerations.
This concludes the introduction of the IC. I now turn to outlining Pincock’s
Mapping Account.
4.2.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account
In his (2012), Pincock is interested in establishing what the contribution of
mathematics is to scientific representations, how it can be involved in the
confirmation of scientific claims, its role in scientific inferences, how it can
contribute to scientific explanation and what conclusions can be drawn for the
realist/anti-realist debate in light of the contributions he identifies. Because
of these wide ranging goals, Pincock’s account of mathematical representation
is not schematically set out, but rather outlined abstractly, then expanded
upon through numerous examples. This is both useful and problematic: it
100
allows one to see how certain parts of his account reveal the contribution of
mathematics in the various areas he is interested in, yet it causes problems in
identifying a clear, concise statement of what his account consists of. In light
of this, I shall provide as clear an outline of his account as I can in this chapter.
Further details will be provided through applying the PMA to my case study
of the rainbow in Chapter 7.
Pincock takes the content of mathematical scientific representations to be
“exclusively” structural, in that the “conditions of correctness . . . [imposed]
on a system can be explained in terms of a formal network of relations that
obtains in the system along with a specification of which physical properties
are correlated with which parts of the mathematics” (Pincock 2012, pg. 25).
A representation is obtained by denoting a target and a structure to act as a
representational vehicle. A structural relation is then identified between the
target and the structure, and the “specification” relation is identified, which
helps inform the content of the vehicle, including some form of interpretation
of the mathematics in terms of the target. The exact content of the repre-
sentation will depend on the application at hand, in that various parts of the
mathematical structure might become “decoupled” from its interpretation and
what is determined to be ‘intrinsic’ or ‘extrinsic’ mathematics. For example,
some predictions are considered to be extrinsic mathematics and so are not
part of the content of the representation. Pincock’s account is very close to
agreeing with Contessa’s idea of an analytic interpretation.16 I will show that
this is the case in §4.3.2. In this section I will expand upon Pincock’s notions
of content, introduce the distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic mathe-
matics and the related notion of core concepts, and detail the structural and
specification relations.
16At one point Pincock comes close to setting his account out in the same way as Contessa(Pincock 2012, pg. 257).
101
Pincock’s Notion of Content
Pincock distinguishes between theories, models and representations (Pincock
2012, pg. 25-26):
Theory A theory for some domain is a “collection of claims” that aim
“to describe the basic constituents of the domain and how they interact”.
Model Any entity that is used to represent a target system [i.e. a
representational vehicle]. We “use our knowledge of the model to draw
conclusions about the target system”. They may be concrete entities, or
mathematical structures.
Representation A model with content.
Pincock takes contents to “provide conditions under which the representation
is accurate”. Understood schematically, this agrees with the IC: offering a
mathematical scientific representation can be summarised as the claim that
“the concrete system S stands in the structural relationM to the mathematical
system S∗” (Pincock 2012, pg. 28). A representation is correct if “both systems
exist and the structural relation obtains”, otherwise it is incorrect.
Before exploring the various notions of content Pincock works with, a quick
comment should be made concerning two of the assumptions he works with.
The first assumption is that scientists are capable of referring to the world in
some weak sense of ‘refer’. That is, they are able to refer to “the properties,
quantities and relations that constitute their domain of investigation” (Pincock
2012, pg. 26). This weak sense of ‘refer’ is cashed out in a counter-factual way.
Pincock explicates this notion through the example of phlogiston, and thereby
addresses the mistargeting problem of non-existent targets:
In specifying the contents of the contents of [the representations of phlo-
giston], I take the scientist’s ability to talk about phlogiston for granted.
But . . . I do not want it to follow that the phlogiston representations
102
were without content. Instead, I would describe the situation as one
where the scientists were referring to phlogiston in the minimal sense
that they were coherently discussing a substance that could have ex-
isted, and had it existed, some of their phlogiston representations would
have been correct. As it stands, such representations all turned out to
be incorrect.
The second assumption is mathematical Platonism, though this assumption
is later weakened to semantic realism about mathematics (Pincock 2012, §9).
Pincock argues that the anti-realist positions of Hellman and Lewis are consis-
tent with his account of mathematical representation and of the Indispensabil-
ity Argument. I will not engage with Pincock’s views on the Indispensability
Argument in this thesis. However, I think that the approach Pincock has
taken to reach these conclusions is the right one. He has investigated the way
in which mathematics represents the world and produced an account of rep-
resentation that has consequences for which mathematical ontologies we are
able to adopt. That is, his answer to the problems of representation and the
applied metaphysical question have set limits on the available ways we have
to answer the pure metaphysical question, as I argued they would in §2.3.1.
The importance of these two assumptions is that they grant the ability to
agents to refer to both mathematical and physical entities when attempting
to represent the world mathematically. This can be seen in two ways. First, if
(schematically) representations are correct due to the existence of a concrete
system S, a mathematical system, S∗, and a structural relation M holding
between them, then an agent performing a representation requires “referential
access” to the mathematical system S∗ in order to adopt a belief with the
structural content Sc, i.e. the content of the representation (Pincock 2012, pg.
28). Second, they allow Pincock to adopt semantic internalism for mathemat-
ical concepts and semantic externalism for physical concepts (Pincock 2012,
103
pg. 26-27).17
Now for the various notions of content. Pincock distinguishes four types
of content, which roughly correlate with differing levels of sophistication of
representation, though he warns the reader that he does not “claim that every
representation goes through these stages [of differing contents] or that scientists
would always be happy making these distinctions”. Rather, one is to think of
these distinct types of content as a “tool to help explain how to find the content
in a given case” (Pincock 2012, pg. 26). The order in which they are introduced
correlates with this story of increasing sophistication in representation.
The first notion of content Pincock distinguishes is called basic content.
This is the type of content that arises from simple structural mappings (such
iso- and homo- morphisms) and the basic elements of the concrete and mathe-
matical systems (Pincock 2012, pg. 29). To get a grip on what Pincock means
by “basic elements” of concrete and mathematical systems, one can contrast
the examples he provides and his statements concerning those examples in his
§2.2 - Basic Contents and those he provides in his §2.3 - Enrich Contents in
particular the statements concerning derived elements. Derived elements are
a type of mathematical element Pincock distinguishes en route to his second
type of content, enriched contents.
In his §2.2 Pincock provides the example of concrete system composed of
a group of 5 people and the relation of ‘order of age’, which is held to be
isomorphic to the natural numbers 1 through 5 and the less than relation (on
the assumption no two individuals share the same age). In his §2.3, Pincock
provides the example of the heat equation, a partial differential equation:
α2uxx = ut (4.1)
17These positions are again altered slightly later when Pincock considers Wilson’s ap-proach to concepts and the revision of concepts. See Pincock (2012) Chapter 13, and Wilson(2006).
104
When applying this equation, one might expect the accuracy conditions to be
along the lines of requiring an isomorphism between the temperature at each
point in time and the set of ordered pairs (x, t) picked out by the solution to
(4.1) (Pincock 2012, pg. 30). But this would cause two problems. First, we
do not expect our representation to be as accurate as an isomorphism would
demand. Second, temperatures are not defined on a single spatial point, but
rather thought to be a property of spatial regions. One way of responding
to these problems is to stick with the basic contents and conclude that all
such representations are inaccurate. This response faces serious difficulties in
accounting for our use of our representations if they are nearly all taken to be
inaccurate. Pincock opts for a different approach, which I will outline after
establishing what constitutes basic elements.
From the above comments I propose that the basic elements of concrete
and mathematical systems are as follows. For concrete systems they are things
like space time points and properties at space time points. For mathematical
systems they are things like numbers, properties of numbers, and ordered pairs
of numbers. Thus anything more sophisticated than these elements will fall
under the banner of ‘derived’ elements. So things like functions, properties
over regions and so on.18 These derived elements might constitute all of the
elements involved in a representation, and are especially prevalent in idealisa-
tions (Pincock 2012, pg. 29). I gather that the content of any representation
that involves derived elements will not be exclusively basic. But this does not
mean that all representation that involve derived elements will have content
18It should be noted that Pincock appears to only introduced derived elements in termsof the mathematical structures: “these derived elements in the mathematics will be used torepresent physical entities beyond those [that] can be related directly to the mathematicalentities that appear in the domain of the mathematical structure” (Pincock 2012, pg. 29,my emphasis). However, given Pincock’s claims about temperature not being a fundamentalproperty of an iron bar (the system he applies the heat equation to in his example), I believeit makes sense to extend this notion to elements of the target domain. I take this to be whatPincock refers to as “derived quantities” in the introduction to his §2.4 - Schematic andGenuine Contents. Further, nothing much rests on this. The role of derived elements inidealisations will be far less significant than that played by the idealising assumptions.
105
exclusively composed of enriched content; rather enriched, and the other two
types of content will include derived elements.
Enriched contents are another way of responding to the two problems for
the application of the heat equation. We move from basic contents to enriched
contents, employing derived elements in our concrete and mathematical sys-
tems. An enriched content can be understood to be a mathematical structure
where a representational intention and/or details of the derived elements of the
mathematical structure alter the structural relationM between S and S∗, both
by employing a more sophisticated relation than an iso- or homo- morphism,19
and by allowing the relation/specification relation to have an influence on the
content of the representation (Pincock 2012, pg. 31). Pincock explains which
part of the representation of heat diffusing through an iron bar is constituted
by enriched content (Pincock 2012, pg. 30-31):
In the heat equation, we have to work with small regions in addition
to the points (x, t) picked out by our function. We should take these
regions in the (x, t) plane to represent genuine features of the tempera-
ture changes in the iron bar. This representational option is open to us
even if the derivation and solution of the heat equation seem to make
reference to real-valued quantities and positions. We simply add to the
representation that we intend it to capture temperature changes at a
more coarse-grained level using regions of a certain size which are cen-
tered on the points picked out by our function. The threshold here
can be set using a variety of factors. These include our prior theory
of temperature, the steps in the derivation of the heat equation itself
or our contextually determined purposes in adopting this representation
to represent this particular iron bar. My approach is to incorporate all
of these various inputs into the specification of the enriched content.
19By ‘more sophisticated’ I am referring to Pincock’s use of employing mathematicalterms within the structural relations. I cover the introduction of these terms below, on page111.
106
The enriched content has a much better chance of being accurate as it
will typically be specified in terms of the aspects of the mathematical
structure which can be more realistically interpreted in terms of genuine
features of the target system.
Enriched contents are inadequate for accounting for all of the features of
representing the diffusion of heat through an iron bar (and all of the features
of a large number of idealisations). Specifically, the practice of representing
the iron bar as being infinitely long. This practice requires a different notion
of content than can be supplied by enriched contents, as such a representation
seems to be doing something different than claiming that the iron bar is approx-
imately infinitely long, or that it is infinitely long given some error term. How
one interprets these idealisations threatens to commit one (or certain realists
at least) to inconsistent properties.20 For example, when employing the heat
equation we make the idealisation that the bar is infinitely long, yet we also
know that the bar is only 1m long from our observations. Thus by adopting
the heat equation representation, this representation in conjunction with our
observations attribute inconsistent properties to the bar. Pincock’s approach
to these sorts of idealisations is motived by a rejection of these inconsisten-
cies. The idea is that such representational practices “decouple” or “detach”
the relevant part of the mathematical structure from its “apparent physical
interpretation” (Pincock 2012, pg. 32). Thus, when one sets the length of the
iron bar to infinity, one is not claiming that the bar is infinitely long. Rather,
one detaches the mathematics from its “prior association with a physical quan-
tity in the physical system” and so “these structural similarities between the
mathematical system and the physical system become irrelevant to the cor-
rectness of the overall scientific representation.” Most importantly, “it is not20See Maddy (1992) and Colyvan (2008) for arguments that such idealised properties are
indispensable to science and so commit us to inconsistent claims when they are employed.Pincock’s rejection this analysis of these idealisations will be covered in §7.2.1. He gives hisresponse in §5 of his (2012).
107
part of the content of the scientific representation that the bar is infinitely long
or, perhaps, that it is any length at all ” (my emphasis). In doing so, one shifts
to schematic contents. One way of understanding schematic contents is that
they are pieces of the mathematical structure which have no interpretation.
Alternatively, due to the previous physical interpretation this content had we
are able to track that the representation says nothing about a particular prop-
erty of the system - in this case the length of the iron bar.
Schematic contents can be understood to be schematic in two senses. First,
schematic contents are “impoverished” compared to enriched contents, in that
they place less restrictions on the way the system has to be for the representa-
tion to be correct. Second, the schematic content, often a particular variable
in the mathematical structure, is considered to be an “unspecified parameter”
as it now has no physical interpretation. These parameters reflect the fact
that the representation provides no information on the property they were
previously interpreted as. This should be contrasted with a situation where a
representation claims the iron bar has no length. I presume this would amount
to setting the length variable to 0.
By attributing values to unspecified parameters, one moves from schematic
contents to genuine contents (Pincock 2012, pg. 32). How the move from
schematic contents to genuine contents occurs depends on various contextual
considerations, such as the differences in the target systems, the purposes of
the investigation and so on. However, these goals do not get included in the
content of the representation, because “it is no part of the accuracy conditions
of the representation that the representation serve the goals and purposes of
the scientist” (Pincock 2012, pg. 33). I take this to mean that the specification
is guided by the goals of scientists, but that it does not include these goals.21
21The above exposition can only serve as an introduction to the notions of content thatPincock works with. For the clearest, although rather simple, examples of how Pincock’snotions of content can be applied to actual representations, see his example of how torepresenting traffic flow (both in dynamic and steady states) and the example of the bridges
108
Core Concepts and Internal & External Mathematics
The different notions of content are not the whole story of what mathematics
constitutes the content of representations. The notion of core concepts and
the distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic mathematics play a role. While
both of these ideas are influenced by Pincock’s views on the inferential role of
mathematics in scientific representations (which shall be addressed in §4.4.2),
they can be introduced independently of those considerations.
Pincock distinguishes the intrinsic and extrinsic mathematics as follows
(Pincock 2012, pg. 37):
Intrinsic Mathematics “Mathematics that is used in directly speci-
fying how a system has to be for the representation to be correct”; the
mathematics that “appears in the mathematical structure involved in the
content”.
Extrinsic Mathematics Mathematics that is not intrinsic, or provides
other contributions using other mathematics to the intrinsic mathemat-
ics. e.g. The “mathematics used to derive and apply a set of equations
might be different to the mathematics of the equations themselves”.
What might be considered an odd consequence of this distinction is that par-
ticular predictions about a target system are not part of the content of a
representation. Pincock explicitly states that “extrinsic mathematics [can be]
used to derive a prediction from a mathematical scientific representation”, the
core example of this being the solving the partial differential equations involved
in the heat equation, (4.1) (Pincock 2012, pg. 38).
Establishing what is the intrinsic mathematics, and therefore the content,
of a representation is not always straight forward. For example, one might be
representing a section of an iron bar via a series of real numbers. This raises
of Könngisberg (Pincock 2012, pg. 48-58).
109
questions of the following kind. Are all real numbers part of the intrinsic math-
ematics? What about complex numbers, which are necessarily linked to the
real numbers? Pincock employs the notion of ‘core conception’ to help settle
this issue. In this case, complex numbers are not taken to be part of the core
conception of real numbers, and so would constitute extrinsic mathematics.
But how does one establish what a core conception is?
The main motivation for Pincock’s adoption of the notion of core concep-
tions is a problem related to inference. For now, this can be summarised as
an attempt to find a middle path between the two extreme responses to the
question of whether metaphysical necessity is respected by logical inference.
These two extremes being the claim that either all metaphysical necessities
are respected, or none of them are (Pincock 2012, pg. 35). The idea is that
there is some ‘core’ elements or features of mathematical terms that must be
grasped in order to be said to have an understanding of the terms. For ex-
ample, transitivity is a part of the core conception of ‘greater than’. Thus,
when one considers the mathematical techniques required to solve the partial
differential equations involved in the heat equation, one should see that these
techniques “go far beyond what could be reasonably required to understand the
equations themselves”. As part of explaining what constitutes “understanding”
here, Pincock appeals to the restricted faculties agents possess. That is, there
are limitations on the number of calculations, inferences, or steps of a deriva-
tion an agent can perform without the use of tools (such as pen and paper,
or a computer), and that these limitations play a role in delineating the core
conceptions. This can be summarised as the stipulation “that only a certain
level of complexity in [a] derivation can be tolerated”, where complexity is
judged by, for example, the length (i.e. the number of steps) of the derivation
(Pincock 2012, pg. 37).
Now that I have introduced the notions of content and core conceptions,
110
and the intrinsic/extrinsic mathematics distinction, I will turn to explaining
Pincock’s position on what the structural and specification relations are, and
their role in Pincock’s account.
Pincock’s Structural Relations and Specification Relation
Pincock defines a structural relation as follows (Pincock 2012, pg. 27):
A structural relation is one that obtains between systems S1 and S2
solely in virtue of the formal network of the relations that obtains be-
tween the constituents of S1 and the formal network of the relations
that obtains between the constituents of S2 [where a] formal network
is a network that can be correctly described without mentioning the
specific relations which make us the network.
This is a fairly general notion and Pincock recognises that it must be tightened
up in terms of explicating what the range of acceptable structural relations are
in order for his account to succeed. Pincock is willing to accept the usual set
theoretic mapping relations of isomorphisms and homomorphisms (and pre-
sumably other such mappings). However, when introducing enriched contents,
Pincock argued that iso- and homo- morphisms are insufficient. They are re-
stricted to relating the basic elements of mathematical and physical systems
and so caused problems, prompting the shift to enriched contents. This shift
resulted in an alteration of the structural relationM between the two systems,
S and S∗. What this alteration consists in can now be explained.
Rather than be restricted to (simple) set theoretic structural mappings,
Pincock is open to incorporating mathematical notions in the structural re-
lations: “[he will] allow more intricate sorts of structural relations, including
those whose specification requires mathematics” (Pincock 2012, pg. 27). How
these structural relations are formed will depend on the representation at hand.
For example, when attempting to represent the temperature diffusion through
111
an iron bar with the heat equation, (4.1), we must take into consideration the
fact that temperature is defined over regions, rather than points, of space. One
way of doing this proposed by Pincock is to consider an isomorphism between
the temperature at times, and u in the mathematical structure, subject to a
spatial error term ε = 1mm. The idea is that the structural relation includes
the ‘threshold’ of the spatial regions over which the temperature is defined.
The specification relation is first introduced as Pincock attempts to sharpen
up the notion of structural content (Pincock 2012, pg. 25, my emphasis):
. . . the content of mathematical scientific representations . . . is exclu-
sively structural [which means] that the conditions of correctness that
such representations impose on a system can be explained in terms of
a formal network of relations that obtains in the system along with a
specification of which physical properties are correlated with which parts
of the mathematics.
This initial statement is then refined by comparison to Suárez (2010), when
Pincock explains how he bridges the apparent gap between concrete systems
and the set theoretic descriptions of structures22 (Pincock 2012, pg. 29, my
emphasis):
Suppose we have a concrete system along with a specification of the rele-
vant physical properties. This specification fixes an associated structure.
Following Suárez, we can say that the system instantiates that struc-
ture, relative to that specification, and allow that structural relations
are preserved by this instantiation relation (Suárez 2010, pg. 9). This
allows us to say that a structural relation obtains between a concrete
system and an abstract structure.
I take these quotations to detail the two roles the specification plays:
22Pincock appeals to the distinction between systems and structures in Shapiro (1997).
112
i) Provide an interpretation of the mathematical structure.
ii) Fix the mathematical structure.
I also take these quotations to imply that the representation relation for Pin-
cock is at least a two-part compound relation, composed of a structural relation
and the specification relation. The agent is also involved in the representation,
but exactly how is not clear. The agent might be related to either the vehicle,
target and specification relation, or to the vehicle and target by virtue of the
specification relation, or in some other way. This will be clarified in §4.3.2,
when inference is discussed in more detail.
We can see how the specification plays its two roles by referring to how
enriched and schematic contents are identified. Enriched contents involve the
adoption of derived elements in the mathematical structure. Here, the spec-
ification can play the ii) role: we recognise that temperature is defined over
a region of space, and so must alter our mathematical structure to accommo-
date this feature of the world in order to have a possibly correct representation.
Pincock explains this in terms of “incorporating” the contextual features that
influence the choice of ε into the specification (Pincock 2012, pg. 31). Schematic
contents involve the decoupling of the (prior) interpretation of mathematical
variables. Here the specification will play the i) role, by simply not relating
the variable x to the length of the iron bar any more.
It appears that the specification relation is more than simply intentions.
Pincock states that the intention for the heat diffusion representation to cap-
ture regions of space is only one of the inputs to be incorporated into the
specification. He also lists such things as a theory of temperature and the
derivation of the heat equation as “inputs” to the threshold of regions to be
incorporated into the specification.
This concludes my introduction to the Inferential Conception and Pincock’s
113
Mapping Account. I will now turn to establishing how one might understand
these accounts in terms of Epistemic Representation.
4.3 The Structural Mapping Accounts &
Epistemic Representation
In this section and the next I will be exploring how the IC and PMA can be
understood in terms of Contessa’s approach. prima facíe Contessa requires
separate accounts for epistemic representation and faithful epistemic repre-
sentation. He offers his Interpretational Account of epistemic representation
separately from his arguments in favour of a structural account of faithful
epistemic representation (Contessa 2011, pg. 126-130). The Interpretational
Account of epistemic representation consists in (what I have called) a global
denotation relation between vehicle and target, and Contessa’s analytic ac-
count of interpretation. While Contessa does not offer an account of faithful
epistemic representation, he indicates that he would advocate an account that
makes use of various types of structural relations in order to cash out the grad-
ability of faithfulness in terms of similarity of structure: “the more structurally
similar the vehicle and target are . . . the more faithful an epistemic represen-
tation of the target the vehicle is” (Contessa 2011, pg. 129-130). However, it
does not appear necessary for one to supply separate accounts, and cannot be
necessary if the IC and PMA are viable accounts of faithful epistemic repre-
sentation. Rather the requirement seems to be that there are three separable
parts of an account:
i) Global denotation: a relation that points the vehicle to the target.
ii) Interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target: loosely characterised,
this requires the agent to “take facts about the vehicle to stand for (pu-
tative) facts about the target” (Contessa 2007, pg. 57).
114
iii) Gradable faithfulness relation: some relation that provides a suitable
answer to the question “in virtue of what does [a] model represent a
certain system faithfully” and is a gradable relation (Contessa 2007, pg.
68), (Contessa 2011, pg. 129).
The first two requirements constitute Contessa’s account of epistemic represen-
tation, while the third constitutes his (putative) account of faithful epistemic
representation. Whether the first two requirements are genuinely distinct re-
quirements is debatable. In §3.4.2 I highlighted that Contessa includes the
global denotation in his account of analytic interpretation in his (2007), but
separates it out in his (2011). All that is required is that the vehicle is aimed at
the target. This could be through explicitly distinct denotation and interpreta-
tion relations, through an interpretation relation that includes the denotation
relation, or some other compound interpretation relation.
To establish whether the IC and PMA satisfy these requirements and fit
into Contessa’s approach, I will ask the following questions of the accounts:
(1) Which part of the account provides the epistemic representation?
(2) How does the account establish faithful epistemic representation? in-
cluding:
(2.a) How does it supply a gradable notion of faithfulness?
(2.b) How does it account for the relationship between faithfulness and
usefulness?
Question (2.b) is motivated by Contessa’s arguments that faithfulness and use-
fulness do not always coincide (Contessa 2011, pg. 130-131). He argues for the
splitting of faithfulness and usefulness in response to Galilean idealisation, but
this notion can be generalised to any case of misrepresentation. What is sig-
nificant about this realisation is that what determines a useful representation
115
is the purposes and the goals of the agent using the representation. A viable
account of faithful epistemic representation has to account for how less faithful
representations can be more useful than more faithful representations.
As part of answering these questions I will be concerned with the idea that
the relations responsible for epistemic representation have to be completely
separable from the relations responsible for faithful epistemic representation.
I take this to be a fair reading of the distinction Contessa argues for, rather
than a requirement that there are two separate accounts. Given the intro-
duction of the accounts above, it should be clear that the PMA can provide
separate relations that would account for epistemic representation and faith-
ful epistemic representation. It does not seem possible to provide separate
relations on the IC, due to the interpretation of the vehicle being provided by
the interpretation mapping, a structural relation. I will argue below that the
IC is evidence that Contessa is mistaken to think that epistemic and faithful
representation should always be separable, both in terms of distinct accounts
and in terms of there being distinct relations. This has no effect on adopt-
ing his approach and considering the IC and the PMA as accounts of faithful
epistemic representation.
I will now turn to answering (1). I will then provide outlines of answers
to question (2) in §4.4. Fully worked out answers to questions (2.a) and (2.b)
will be provided in Chapters 6 for the IC and 7 for the PMA.
4.3.1 The Inferential Conception
Representation occurs on the IC when an agent adopts a partial mapping
from some empirical set up to a mathematical model (the immersion step),
performs some mathematical manipulations to obtain a resultant structure
(the derivation step), and then interprets this resultant structure in terms of
the empirical set up by adopting another partial mapping, from the resultant
116
structure to the empirical set up (the interpretation step). As explained above,
the target of the representation is picked out by the intention of the agent,
and the contextual and pragmatic considerations such as the use the agent is
intending to put the representation to. The intention picks out the immersion
and interpretation mappings. We can therefore point to the intention of the
agent and the pragmatic and contextual considerations as playing the role of
the global denotation relation, and the interpretation mapping as providing
the interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target. These are the relations
that constitute the epistemic representation part of the IC.
There are two problems with this analysis of the IC. First, the way Con-
tessa set out his accounts of epistemic and faithful epistemic representation
implied that the relations that constitute the epistemic representation relation
should be distinct from those that constitute the faithful epistemic representa-
tion relation (whether these relations constitute two distinct accounts or not).
This is clearly not the case for the IC, as the relation which provides the inter-
pretation of the vehicle in terms of the target is a structural relation, which is
supposed to responsible for the faithfulness of the representation. Second, we
are only supposed to be able to draw inferences about our target after we have
adopted an interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target. However, it ap-
pears that we can draw inferences before we adopt such an interpretation: the
derivation step appears to involve drawing surrogative inferences, and this step
finishes before we have interpreted the vehicle in terms of the target (before
the interpretation mapping is identified).
The first problem puts pressure on accepting the IC as an account of faith-
ful epistemic representation. I argued above that although there need not be
separate accounts of epistemic and faithful epistemic representation, Contessa
could be interpreted as requiring that there be relations that separately pro-
vide epistemic and faithful epistemic representation. The IC clearly cannot
117
provide these relations, which leaves us with the choice of either rejecting the
IC as an account of faithful epistemic representation (as it does not include
relations for epistemic representation), or rejecting this interpretation of Con-
tessa’s statements (and possibly the statements that were interpreted).
There is strong evidence that we should accept the IC as an account of faith-
ful epistemic representation: the authors discuss the role it plays in providing a
framework for accommodating surrogative inferences; it is inspired by Hughes’
DDI account, which is an account of representation Contessa advocates as a
possible account of epistemic representation; and it introduces the structural
relations required to accommodate the faithfulness of representations.
I think that the correct course of action is to reject Contessa’s statements
concerning the distinctions between epistemic and faithful epistemic repre-
sentation as endorsing any kind of necessary distinction of either accounts or
relations. We can reject these statements while remaining consistent with Con-
tessa’s approach. Faithful epistemic representation is held to occur due to the
existence of a structural relation. If this relation does not exist, it need not be
the case that we have an epistemic representation, as this can be established
through different relations. We can have accounts of faithful epistemic rep-
resentation that use structural relations (and agents intentions) to establish
the interpretation of the vehicle in terms of the target as well as providing the
gradable notion of faithfulness.
A possible objection to this solution to the first problem is that we would
be unable to have situations where we thought we had a (partially) faithful
epistemic representation that then turned out to be a wholly unfaithful repre-
sentation. Contessa thinks that such cases exist (Contessa 2011, pg. 63). We
would be unable to have these situations on the IC because either there exists
a structural relation between the target and the vehicle, and so the vehicle is a
(partially) faithful epistemic representation, or the relation does not exist and
118
so it is not a representation of any kind. If the structural relation does not
exist, there is no relation that can play the role of the interpretation relation,
and so the vehicle could not be an epistemic representation of the target.
I can provide two responses to this objection. Either we were always mis-
taken that the vehicle was a (partially) faithful representation, and so we
should not have been employing the IC anyway; some other account would
have to be provided to account for our taking of the vehicle to be a represen-
tation (e.g. Contessa’s Interpretational Account of epistemic representation).
Or the representation is still partially faithful, it is just not faithful in any way
we now deem useful. I have in mind here the response I gave in §3.3.1 and
§3.5 to the non-existent targets type of misrepresentation. If we ever thought
that the representation was partially faithful, then there must have been some
inferences that were accepted as sound at the time. Most likely, these would
be measurement results or predictions of measurement results. Provided we
leverage the contextual dependence of ‘use’, we will still be able to accept
these inferences as sound (i.e. rather than saying the model is providing both
measurement predictions and ontological statements, it is now only providing
a way of saving the phenomena.). There is still a structural relation between
the vehicle and the measurement results, even if we can now state it as being
less strong than initially thought.
The second problem can be resolved by recognising a distinction between
intra-vehicular inferences, and extra-vehicular inferences.23 The derivation
step involves inferences that are internal to the representing vehicle. As the
structure is an uninterpreted mathematical structure, we cannot take any in-
ferences we draw from it to be about anything but mathematics. This is the
entire reason for requiring the interpretation mapping. Thus simply drawing
consequences from the mathematical formalism is not a performance of surrog-
23The idea of intra-vehicular inferences I’m proposing here is similar to the notion thatmodels have an “internal dynamic” (Hughes 1997, pg. S331-S332).
119
ative inference. To perform surrogative inferences, we have to infer something
from the vehicle to the target, that is, we have to interpret something about
the vehicle in terms of the target, which is what the interpretation mapping
provides. I therefore call the inferences drawn in the derivation step intra-
inferences: they are internal to the vehicle. Surrogative inferences are extra-
inferences, inferences that are external to the vehicle, they result in claims that
are external to the model. Thus, although we can perform inferences before
interpreting the mathematics, they are not the sort of inferences that Contessa
is referring to by surrogative inferences. On the IC, the interpretation mapping
provides the surrogative inferences. But again, which mapping we choose will
be dependent upon the pragmatic and contextual considerations. The IC will
involve a pragmatic and contextual ‘relation’ for each mapping involved in the
representation.
The above discussion shows that the IC and Contessa’s programme are
compatible. The broadly contextual and pragmatic considerations that are
involved in representation include such things as representational and contex-
tual intentions, and these considerations in conjunction with the immersion
and interpretation mappings constitute the part of the IC which allow us to
draw surrogative inferences with the representational vehicle. The gradability
part of faithful epistemic representation will be provided, as mentioned above,
by the partiality of the structures and mappings involved.
I now turn to outlining how the PMA deals with epistemic representation.
4.3.2 The Mapping Account
As indicated in §4.2.2, the PMA looks, prima facíe to be an account of mathe-
matical scientific representation that exemplifies Contessa’s notion of analytic
interpretation. This can be seen most clearly when Pincock defends his ap-
120
proach from Fictionalist arguments. He summarises the process by which
representations obtain content as follows (Pincock 2012, pg. 257):
As I have presented things in this book a scientific representation gets its
content in three steps. First, we must fix the abstract structure which we
are calling the model. This is a purely mathematical entity. Then some
parts of this abstract structure must be assigned physical properties
or relations. At this second stage the parts of the purely mathematical
entity are assigned denotation or reference relations. Finally, a structural
relation must be given which indicates how the relevant parts map onto
the target system or target systems of the representation. At the end
of these three steps the representation has obtained its representational
content. This means that it is determinate how a target system has to
be for that representation be an accurate representation of that target
system.
In this quotation one can identify the two roles of the specification: fixing the
mathematical structure and providing an interpretation for the mathematical
structure.24 We can also see that the specification relation is distinct from the
structural relation.
I take Pincock’s account as conforming to Contessa’s notion of an analytic
interpretation. As such it does provide separate relations for epistemic and
faithful epistemic representation. In order to have an analytic interpretation,
the account needs to satisfy four conditions: taking the vehicle to denote the
target (the ‘global denotation relation’); taking every object in the vehicle
to denote one and only one object in the target; similarly for every relation
in the vehicle and target; and similarly for every function in the vehicle and
target. I take the specification relation to be capable of providing the ‘global
denotation relation’ as it includes representational intentions. These intentions24These roles were outlined in §4.2.2 - Pincock’s Structural Relations and Specification
Relation, on pg. 111.
121
are involved in the specification’s first role, of fixing the structure. This is the
process of finding a mathematical structure that can be used to represent the
physical system. This is a little more involved than simply denoting a piece of
mathematics. The fixing of the structure does not just take into consideration
the representation intentions, but also features of the mathematical structure
that is being fixed (such as steps taken to derive the structure), features of the
theory or previous theories that are used to represent the phenomena, and so
on (Pincock 2012, pg. 31).
Further, this step only involves an uninterpreted mathematical structure
at this point. I consider it to be similar to searching for the correct tool.
The agent roots around their ‘mathematical tool box’ attempting to find the
right mathematical structure. The intentions inform the search, rather than
fixing any target. This reverses the direction of the intentions from how the
problem was posed above, where the intention was going from the vehicle to
the target. e.g. That E =mc2 would always have to represent rods and clocks
if Einstein’s intentions were included in the representation relation. Pincock
sets up the intention relations as going in the other direction: one has a target
and must find a structure to use as a representation. This way of looking at
the involvement of intentions, and how it avoids the problem, is reinforced by
the distinction drawn between the specification and the structural relation. i.e.
Intentions concern the identification of the vehicle, rather than the target or a
structural mapping. A consequence of this approach is that one might obtain
the structural mapping for ‘free’, due to choosing the structure of the vehicle.
This is not the only way in which the PMA uses intentions, however. When
outlining how the PMA will accommodate the gradable notion of faithfulness,
I will argue that the intentions will pick out different structural relations in
addition to their role here.
The other three conditions for an analytic interpretation can all be met by
122
the second role of the specification, that of providing an interpretation. There
is evidence that the specification does this through denotation. In the above
quotation, Pincock describes the interpretation of the mathematical structure
to occur due to “the parts of the purely mathematical entity [being] assigned
denotation or reference relations” (Pincock 2012, pg. 257, my emphasis); when
discussing the heat equation, he talks of the physical and mathematical ba-
sic contents being isomorphic to each other, where the “set of ordered pairs
(x, t) picked out by the solution to our equation, where the first coordinate
denotes position and the second coordinate denotes time” (Pincock 2012, pg.
30). Further, I think it is possible to consider this denotation separate to the
isomorphism, both from how Pincock explains the situation here, and that the
previous quotation (from pg. 257) explicitly separates out both relations, talk-
ing of first the establishing the specification/interpretation relation and then
the structural relation. Thus I take the way the specification relation provides
an interpretation of the mathematical structure in terms of the target to be
an instance of Contessa’s analytic interpretation.
Inferences and Mathematical Necessity
There are two problems with the idea that Pincock’s account directly and sim-
ply fits into Contessa’s programme however. First, Pincock distinguishes his
approach to representation from inferential approaches, including Contessa’s.
Second, Pincock has a particular view on inference, which is motivated by
considering the relationship between the metaphysical necessities that mathe-
matics includes and logical consequence.
The first of these problems is not too significant. Pincock explains the
difference as (Pincock 2012, pg. 28):
Perhaps the main competitor to an approach based on accuracy condi-
tions tends to put inferential connections at the heart of their picture of
123
representation. Inferential approaches must explain the scientific prac-
tice of evaluating representations in terms of their accuracy. While there
does not seem to be any barrier to doing this, I have found it more conve-
nient to start with the accuracy conditions. On my approach, inferential
claims about a given representation follow immediately from its accuracy
conditions: a valid inference is accuracy-preserving.
I take the distinction between Contessa’s and the IC’s, and Pincock’s ap-
proaches to be one of priority, which has no consequences for understand-
ing Pincock’s account in terms of epistemic representation. That is, Pincock
constructs his account starting from accuracy conditions, and addresses infer-
ences after he has made clear how representations provide accuracy conditions,
whereas the inferential approaches construct their accounts by starting with
a focus on how to guarantee inferences, and then establish how these lead to
accurate representations. In other words, we can understand Pincock to be
attempting to establish an account of faithful epistemic representation, which
entails an account of epistemic representation. Inferential approaches might
aim to establish an account of epistemic representation first and then extended
it to an account of faithful epistemic representation.25
The second problem is far more threatening. It originates in the approach
Pincock takes, focusing on accuracy conditions before inference. This results
in a focus on how scientific representations are confirmed to a greater extent
than the inferential approaches do.26 Pincock’s discussion of inference begins
with his adoption of the “prima facíe assumption that representations are
confirmed by entailing, perhaps in conjunction with auxiliary assumptions,25The advocates of the IC start from the position that mathematics is capable of providing
surrogative inferences. They construct the IC to show how mathematics can play thisrole. As such their starting position entails that the IC should be an account of epistemicrepresentation. However, as they adopt structural relations to account for the surrogativeinferences, they skip an account of epistemic representation and actually argue instead foran account of faithful epistemic representation.
26At least more than Contessa, who does not discuss confirmation, or the authors of theIC, who only discuss the consequences of establishing whether a representation is empiricallyadequate or not, rather than how the representations can be found to be confirmed or not.
124
some predictions that are then experimentally verified. So we need to focus
on this inferential link between our representations and these predictions to
understand confirmation” (Pincock 2012, pg. 33, my emphasis).
Pincock approaches his analysis of the inferential link by comparing it to
our standard account of logical inference. He focuses in particular on the trans-
lation of English into logic, which allows us to make the “distinction between
logical and nonlogical terms . . . explicit”. Pincock goes on to argue, however,
that extending this approach to our mathematical scientific representations
“will distort their genuine inferential relations and obscure difficulties in con-
firming them”. To motivate this view, Pincock translates the sentences ‘the
number of fish is greater than the number of cats’, ‘the number of cats is
greater than the number of dogs’, and ‘so, the number of fish is greater than
the number of dogs’ into mathematical language:
a > b;
b > c;
∴ a > c
and logical language:
Nx(x is a fish) > Nx(x is a cat);
Nx(x is a cat) > Nx(x is a dog);
∴ Nx(x is a fish) > Nx(x is a dog)
125
or:
G(ab);
G(bc);
∴ G(ac)
The problem with these two translations in to logical language is that there are
no logical terms; that is the greater than relation, >, has been translated into a
two-place predicate, which has no “fixed interpretation” (Pincock 2012, pg. 34).
As the two place predicate G(⋅⋅) does not have a fixed interpretation, when
analysed in terms of possible worlds there will be worlds where this argument
has true premises and a false conclusion. e.g. G(⋅⋅) could be interpreted as
‘greater than’, or ‘less than’. Thus, the above argument is invalid. For Pincock,
this presents us with a dilemma:
i) inference must respect the metaphysical necessities, and therefore the
above argument is valid; or
ii) we widen our notion of necessity and possibility by invoking a sense of
logical possibility according to which the inference is valid.
Pincock argues that we should adopt ii). His argument can be summarised
as the claim that if we adopt i), then all mathematical claims entail all other
mathematical claims due to the metaphysical necessary relationships between
them, which stops us from explaining how learning new mathematics can lead
to new inferences from scientific representations (Pincock 2012, pg. 34). The
idea is that, if the metaphysically necessary connections are respected, then
all mathematical claims are tautologous, and so all inferences including math-
ematics will be trivially valid. Thus when we perform an inference from a
mathematical scientific representation “all we wind up doing . . . is making ex-
plicit what was already implicit in the content of the original representation”.
126
To see what sort of consequences this has for surrogative inferences, lets
look at the heat equation, (4.1), and how we use it to represent heat diffusion.
We specify all of the parameters of the equation’s schematic content to get
genuine content. This allows us to make predictions and test the accuracy of
the representation, which involves finding out what the accuracy conditions
actually are and looking to see if they occur in the target system. That is, we
solve the partial differential equations where variables have been given values
specific to the target system we are representing. Yet the solution to a partial
differential equation (if the equation is well formed) is unique and it is (sup-
posed) to take on unique values by metaphysical necessity. Pincock poses the
understanding of this inference to be problematic: are we supposed to under-
stand the metaphysical necessary connection between the partial differential
equation and the values of its solution to be a metaphysically necessary state-
ment about the iron bar and the way heat diffuses through it, for example?
Pincock’s solution to this problem, and motivation for adopting ii), is the
claim that “we can understand the content of the representation and yet not
be able to work out what the solution is. This suggests that the solution is
not part of the content of the representation”. This is supposedly clear, as the
solution is derived from metaphysically necessary truths, yet the necessity of
these truths is not “relevant to the conception of inference [Pincock] is . . . ar-
ticulating”. What is relevant, is the “nonlogical character of the mathematical
terminology”, as it is the nonlogical character of the terminology that “blocks
the entailment relation between the systems of equations and its solution. To
get genuine entailment, we need to add additional premises to the argument
corresponding to the features of the mathematical entities that are sufficient
to pin down the interpretation of the mathematical terms”.
This is where Pincock’s notions of intrinsic and extrinsic mathematics and
core conceptions come into play with regards to inference. The idea is that the
127
content of our representations includes just the core conceptions of the intrinsic
mathematics, and it is these core conceptions which have a ‘fixed’ interpreta-
tion. As transitivity is part of the core conception of the ‘greater than’ relation,
the number of fish argument is valid without additional premises. However,
the solutions to partial differential equations are not part of the core concep-
tions of the partial differential equations themselves. Thus we need to employ
extra premises, extrinsic mathematics, in order to construct a valid inference
that the solution to the partial differential equations makes a prediction about
the target system. As these inferences require the extrinsic mathematics, the
triviality of the conclusion is removed, helping to alleviate the worry that our
mathematical scientific representations make claims that the world is necessary
in some way.
So why is this a problem for fitting the PMA into Contessa’s approach? The
way the approach was set out did not include any considerations of how math-
ematics can lead to valid inferences. The sense of validity Contessa seemed
to be concerned with was that of modus ponens : if A holds in the vehicle,
then B holds in the target; A holds in the vehicle, ∴ B holds in the target:
A → B; A; ∴ B. Given Pincock’s statements above, this appears to be too
simple an approach to inference. This difference in apparent simplicity can
be accounted for by looking at how the IC and the PMA deal with the heat
equation in terms of extra- and intra-vehicular inferences.
We can understand the heat example in a modus ponens argument form as
follows: we start with the claim that the solution of a PDE, S, represents the
heat diffusion at a particular point in the iron bar as having the magnitude S.
We solve the PDE to get a particular value for S (intra-vehicular inferences).
We then conclude that the heat diffusion in the bar at a particular point will
have the magnitude S (an extra-vehicular inference). This implies that the
notion of inference Contessa’s epistemic representation work with is only con-
128
cerned with extra-vehicular inferences, such as predictions about magnitudes
and properties of the target system. I take this to be the same for the IC. This
understanding of inference is in contrast to Pincock’s, which concerns not just
predictions, but also how the predictions are reached, and so might threaten
the intra-/extra-vehicular inference distinction drawn above.
On the Contessa/IC view, solving PDEs are inferences that are internal to
the representing vehicle. One can solve PDEs with the content of representa-
tions on these accounts. But according to Pincock, solutions to PDEs are not
part of the content and so cannot be considered to be an intra-inferences. We
cannot consider them to be extra-inferences either as these are supposed to be
inferences from the vehicle to the target. Solving a PDE is an inference from a
piece of interpreted mathematics to another piece of interpreted mathematics,
which is then inferred from again to give the physical magnitude.
One possible solution is to consider the derivation of the solution to be
part of an extended extra-inference. One should consider the derivation of the
solution, and the extra premises needed (according to Pincock) in order to
turn this solution into a prediction, to be the extra-vehicular inference. This
fits both Pincock’s notion of inference and with the idea that what matters
for epistemic representation is an inference from a representational vehicle to
a target. There is nothing about this notion of extra-vehicular inference which
restricts it to only arguments of the modus tollens form, or at least not of
the A → B; A; ∴ B form where A is atomic. e.g. A could contain further
conditional statements (e.g. ((A ∧ B) → C) → D; ((A ∧ B) → C); ∴D). I
will not explore this solution further here. I take this solution to be good
enough to secure an understanding of Pincock’s account in terms of epistemic
representation.
I have shown above that Pincock’s view of inference originates from his
approach to representation. He starts from accuracy conditions, from which
129
the inferential claims are supposed to follow, rather than concentrating on the
inferential claims and then attempting to explain how these claims result in
the evaluation of representations in terms of accuracy. This lead Pincock to
find the necessity of mathematical claims to be problematic, and finally to his
notions of intrinsic and extrinsic mathematics, and core conceptions.
The inferential approaches do not take the necessity of mathematical claims
to be problematic, or at least there is nothing in the literature to show that
they do. I think the reason for this is brought out in a footnote of Pincock’s,
where he rejects an idea put forward by a referee of his book, that “learning
mathematical truths may serve only to make us aware of valid inferences that
were already available from a given representation” (Pincock 2012, pg. 34, foot-
note 8). Roughly, I think the idea is this: mathematics allows us to perform
surrogative inferences, where the mathematical inferences we make are anal-
ogous to inferences we could make in the target; the mathematical inferences
‘mirror’ the inferences we could make with the target. This is obviously an
oversimplification, though this idea has some intuitive appeal, especially when
the inferential approaches are explicated in terms of morphisms between struc-
tures and given what the proponents of the IC state.27 A plausible response
to the necessity of mathematics on these inferential lead accounts is that while
the intra-vehicular mathematical inferences are necessary, the extra-vehicular
inferences are not, i.e. the interpretation of the conclusions of surrogative
inferences are not necessary.
27For example, that “by embedding certain features of the empirical world into a mathe-matical structure, it is possible to obtain inferences that would otherwise be extraordinarilyhard (if not impossible) to obtain” (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 352).
130
4.4 The Structural Mapping Accounts &
Faithful Epistemic Representation
Above I have argued that both the IC and the PMA can be accommodated
within Contessa’s approach, provided that we make some adjustments to the
first understanding of Contessa I put forward in §3.4. The PMA fits nicely into
the framework of Contessa’s analytic interpretation. The IC does not have the
separate relations required to supply epistemic representation, but does have
the resources to provide an account of faithful epistemic representation. The
adjustment required to accept accounts that provide faithful but not epistemic
representation was rejecting that the interpretation and gradable faithfulness
relations had to be distinct and accepting that one relation could play both
roles. The case of the IC, this is the interpretation mapping.
In this section I will provide broad answers to the questions concerning
faithful epistemic representation:
2. How does the account establish faithful epistemic representation? in-
cluding:
(2.a) How does it supply a gradable notion of faithfulness?
(2.b) How does it account for the relationship between faithfulness and
usefulness?
I have already given a broad answer to question (2): these accounts establish
faithful epistemic representation through structural relations between the ve-
hicle and the target. The details of what those structural relations are have
already been given in the introduction to each account, but below I will briefly
explain how these structural relations can answer question (2.a).
One of the arguments Suárez brought against the straw man isomorphism
account in his (2003) was the argument from misrepresentation. I argued that
131
there are four types of misrepresentation: two types of mistargeting, mistaken
targets and non-existent targets; and two types of inaccuracy, empirically in-
adequate results, and due to abstraction and idealisation. Of these four types,
I held only non-existent targets and inaccuracy due to abstraction and ideal-
isation to be of particular relevance to accounts of scientific representation. I
have already sketched a solution to the problem of non-existent targets. The
problems caused by abstraction and idealisation require a lot of work to be
dealt with adequately. They have a direct bearing on the issue of faithfulness,
and on the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness. Contessa intro-
duces the idea that faithfulness and usefulness do not always coincide and can
in fact be opposed to each other due to considering Galilean idealisation (Con-
tessa 2007, pg. 130-131). An adequate answer to (2.b) will therefore require
a discussion of how each account deals with various types of idealisation. I
pursue this line of investigation in Chapter 6 for the IC, and in Chapter 7
for the PMA. I provide an answer to (2.b) for the IC in Chapter 6. However
an answer for the PMA has to wait until Chapter 8, as my investigation in
Chapter 7 finds answering the question difficult for the PMA (despite its initial
conformity with Contessa’s analytic interpretation).
4.4.1 The Inferential Conception
The structural relations employed by the IC are those of the partial structures
framework. These relations are often characterised as an ordered triple, R =
⟨R1,R2,R3⟩, where R1 is the set of n-tuples that hold for R, R2 is the set of
n-tuples that do not hold for R and R3 is the set of n-tuples for which is it not
known, or for which it is not defined, whether or not they belong to R.28
The first and strongest reason for adopting the partial structures framework
when attempting to account for the gradability of faithfulness is that the partial
28See §6.2.1 for a more detailed explanation of the partial structures framework.
132
structures framework was introduced along with the notion of partial truth in
order to account for the partial information we have in science. By adopting
the view that scientific representations are (mostly) partially faithful epistemic
representations, in that they lead to some sound and some unsound inferences
to be drawn about their targets, one can see a direct parallel to how da Costa
& French (2003) claim scientific models can be partially true.
The faithfulness of the idealised vehicle can be measured by comparing
the Ri of the vehicle to the Ri of our target, in the same way the ‘degree’ of
similarity or approximation of models can be measured (da Costa & French
2003, pg. 50-51), (da Costa & French 1990, pg. 261). For example, the greater
the number of elements related by the R3 component, the more ‘partial’ the
structure is, and the less information we have, noting again that the R3 com-
ponent can be understood as containing those elements for which we do not
know whether statements are satisfied or not.
There is a problem in understanding the partial structures’ approach to
gradability in terms of only the ‘size’ of the R3 component. Once a partial
structure has been ‘filled out’, or ‘completed’, by mapping all elements of R3
to R1 or R2, we obtain the usual notion of structure. Yet this ‘full’ structure
might still produce unsound inferences; that is, the ‘full’ structure might still be
partially faithful. We have two options in response to this: either we are always
using partial structures, as a full structure would be the complete structure
of the situation under investigation; or we only obtain ‘full’ structures for
restricted domains. I think that the first of these responses is the more likely,
but do not have the space to argue for it here.29
The second benefit of adopting the partial structures framework is its (sup-
posed) ability to deal with the abstractions and idealisations present in the ma-
29A sketch of why I favour the first response is that scientific (mathematical) representa-tion seems to be one of the kinds of representation for which idealisation and abstraction,i.e. misrepresentation, is essential, and subsequently that restricted domains will involveidealisations and abstractions, i.e. that the second response will entail the first.
133
jority of scientific representations. A third, and related, benefit is the partial
structures framework’s capacity for dealing with inconsistencies in representa-
tional vehicles. Assuming that the world is not inconsistent (for the sake of
argument), an inconsistency in a representational vehicle would be a serious
case of unfaithfulness, a case that one might initially think results in a com-
pletely unfaithful representation. There are several instances of this not being
the case,30 most notably Bohr’s model of the atom.
As I said above, an investigation into how idealisations are accommodated
on the IC will wait until Chapter 6.31 I will also briefly point to how the
IC might deal with inconsistent representations, though I will also argue that
cases such as Bohr’s model of the atom should be dealt with by another part
of the Semantic View.
4.4.2 The Mapping Account
On Contessa’s approach, the partial faithfulness of a representation can be
measured by the number of sound compared to unsound surrogative inferences
a vehicle allows us to draw about a target. Unfortunately Pincock’s approach
to constructing his account of representation was to focus on accuracy condi-
tions rather than surrogative inferences, making the evaluation of his account
as an account of faithful epistemic representation difficult. Above I argued that
despite this difference in approach to constructing his account and the prob-
lems it raised for understanding inference on the PMA, the account could be
understood as an account of epistemic representation.32 As the PMA includes
a structural relation, which may take the form of any structural mapping or
30Or many cases if one adopts the position that idealisations can be understood as re-sulting in contradictions and therefore positing inconsistencies in the world Maddy (1992),Colyvan (2008).
31I will not address abstraction directly, as whatever is said for idealisation can be adaptedto accommodate abstraction.
32In fact, the PMA actually appeared to fulfil the criteria of Contessa’s analytic inter-pretation.
134
mappings that include mathematical terms, the account should prima facíe be
capable of handling the gradability of faithfulness.
However, the focus on accuracy conditions appears to prevent this. This
is for two reasons. First, although Pincock talks about representations setting
accuracy conditions, he also talks about representations only being correct
if there is a structural relation M between the physical structure S and the
mathematical structure S∗, and incorrect if either of these structures do not
exist, or the relation does not hold (Pincock 2012, pg. 28). Second, Pincock
does not appear to follow a typical understanding of the notion of ‘accuracy
conditions’ as gradable. He cashes out ‘accuracy conditions’ in terms of placing
restrictions on the way the world must be for one to consider the representation
to be accurate, i.e. a strong claim about the structure of the target systems.
Pincock takes the descriptions of representations as “accurate” and “correct”
to be synonymous. The most relevant consequence of this is that whether a
representation is accurate/correct is a binary state of affairs: either it is correct
or it isn’t.
Fortunately we can understand the PMA as providing a gradable notion
of faithfulness. This involves emphasising the various notions of content and
the structural relation. These bring out two ways in which we can motivate a
gradable notion of faithfulness on Pincock’s account: one in line with the usual
understanding of accuracy; another in line with the way in which Contessa
aimed to provide an account of faithful epistemic representation by making use
of different types of structural relations to accommodate the difference in the
structure of target and vehicle (Contessa 2011, pg. 129-130). These two notions
of faithfulness come from an ambiguity in how one can understand ‘faithful’. As
defined above, Contessa takes a partially faithful epistemic representation to be
one which allows us to draw at least one sound inference from our representing
vehicle to our target. What these inferences are is left unspecified. Thus
135
we can understand the inference to be a prediction that a magnitude has a
particular value, or that a target system has a particular property, or expresses
a particular behaviour and so on. Only the first of these types of inferences
can be understood in terms of the typical understanding of ‘accuracy’. I will
call this sort of inference numeric faithfulness. The other sort of faithfulness,
the sort that concerns the structural similarity of vehicle and target, can be
classed as structural faithfulness. Numerical faithfulness is just a consequence
of misrepresentation due to empirically inadequate results and so does not need
to be accommodated specifically by the PMA.
The structural faithfulness can be varied through the use of different struc-
tural relations and will involve considerations of the types of content involved.
The idea here is that while the choice of a particular structural relation might
produce an unfaithful representation, the choice of a different structural re-
lation will produce a more faithful representation. For example, the choice
between an isomorphism and an isomorphism with an error term in the heat
equation representation (Pincock 2012, pg. 31). The intentions of the agent
will play a role here, in selecting which structural relation to adopt.
Different structural relations and notions of content are involved in Pin-
cock’s approach to different types of idealisation. As such, a detailed account
of how the PMA can answer question (2.b) will require an investigation into
what Pincock has to say on idealisation. This will be pursued in Chapter 7.
4.5 Conclusion
In this chapter I have outlined the IC and the PMA, and argued that they
fit into Contessa’s approach of understanding scientific representation as a
subspecies of (partially faithful) epistemic representation. The IC cannot sup-
ply an account of epistemic representation, but this is not a problem as we
can adopt some other account of epistemic representation if required. As it
136
seems plausible that all scientific representations are partially faithful epis-
temic representations (in that they at one time facilitated the drawing of at
least one sound surrogative inference), we only need an account of faithful
epistemic representation to account of mathematical scientific representation.
I also argued that the IC had the resources to answer question (2.b). The
PMA satisfies the conditions for analytic interpretations. There were some
interpretative challenges to understanding the PMA as an account of faithful
epistemic representation due to the approach to inferences Pincock advocated
and his understanding of accuracy. These challenges could be met, though
how the PMA will answer question (2.b) still needs to be explained.
I will now turn to setting out the salient points of my case study, the rainbow.
137
5 | The Rainbow: An Introduction
5.1 Introduction
In this chapter I will outline the history of the scientific investigation into the
rainbow. The rainbow is an excellent case study for exploring issues related
to representation, in particular the role of idealisation. It provides several
different sorts of idealisations, as well as prompting interesting questions con-
cerning the interpretations of the mathematics involved. It has been used by
other philosophers to discuss issues such as reduction1 and mathematical ex-
planation.2 It has also been used by Pincock3 to discuss all of these issues and
so grants a great insight into his account of representation.
I will focus on two parts of the mathematics involved. The idealisation of
taking the ‘size parameter’4 to infinity, and the introduction of abstract math-
ematics in the Complex Angular Momentum (CAM) approach to finding an
approximate solution to the Mie solution. The β →∞ idealisation is involved
in a ray-theoretic explanation of the colour distribution of the rainbow, while
the CAM approach is involved in an explanation of the supernumerary bows,
an interference pattern that is sometimes seen inside the primary rainbow.
These two pieces of mathematics provide useful examples for gaining further
1Batterman (2001)2Batterman (2010) and Bueno & French (2012).3Pincock (2012) Chapter 11.4The size parameter is a dimensionless variable β that describes the relationship between
the wave number of the light incident on the water droplet and the radius of the waterdroplet.
138
insights into the Inferential Conception and Pincock’s Mapping Account. I
will return to these examples in subsequent chapters, but outline them here so
that the reader gains a familiarity with them before I put them to philosophical
work.
The history of the investigation into the rainbow can be roughly split into
three. First, there was the ray theoretic approach that was able to provide
apparent explanations for the angle of the rainbow and the distribution of
colours within it. Here, light is represented as geometric rays and the rainbow
is explained to be due to internal reflections of the these light rays within
the water droplets. Next came the wave theoretic Mie solution. Mie was
able to derive an exact solution of the scattering of an electromagnetic light
wave by water droplets using Maxwell’s equations. Unfortunately the Mie
solution, expressed as a sum of partial wave terms, converged too slowly to
provide practical results. This prompted a search for a way to transform
the solution so that an approximate, but faster converging, form of the Mie
solution could be found. As part of this search, an analogy was made with the
scattering of quantum particles: light was represented via the mathematics
used to represent the complex angular momentum of quantum particles. This
move to the complex plane allowed for an approximate solution to be found,
which now gives an accurate result for a very large range of physical situations.
I will discuss the first and third of these parts of the investigation in much more
detail below. I will only provide a sketch of the Mie solution. Full mathematical
details can be found in Appendix A.
139
5.2 The Ray Theoretic Approach to The
Rainbow Angle and Colours
The two most striking features of a rainbow, that it always appears at an angle
of 42° to the observer and with a colour distribution of violet, blue through to
orange and red from bottom to top, can be accounted for by the ray theory of
light. Here light is considered to be a ray, rather than an electromagnetic wave.
As such, it lacks various wave features: there is no wavelength, frequency and
so on.
changes as we consider rays which strike the drop. As Fig. 2 shows, apath that involves an initial refraction, followed by a reflection onthe back of the drop, followed by a second refraction can lead to aray that will be deflected backwards and downwards towards theobserver. The angles in question here are the initial angle ofincidence yi and the initial angle of refraction yr . Snel’s law andthe geometry of the circle allow us to determine the total angle ofdeflection D using just yi:
D¼ 1803þ2yi#4sin#1 1n
sinyi
! "ð1Þ
The basic idea of our explanation of (a) is that (1) tells us that muchof the sunlight that hits the raindrop at angles 03oyio903 willhave D at or close to D¼ 1383. This corresponds to the observedangle of a¼ 423 ¼ 1803#D that we are trying to account for. Thisproposal can be made more precise by noting that D obtains aminimum, and so a obtains a maximum, as we move from yi ¼ 03 to903 when D¼ 1383. Furthermore, this minimum corresponds to alarge amount of light because many yi lead to this value for D orsomething close to it. The 423 is the maximum value for a, soaccording to this explanation no sunlight from these rays appearsabove the primary rainbow.
So far no mention has been made of the colors of the rainbow.That means that our explanation of (a) is clearly not an explanationof (b). But a small addition to our account of where the rainbowappears is sufficient to rectify this gap. In the above argument wetreated only the case where n¼ 4
3. Treating n as a constant issufficient to explain where the rainbow appears, but a moreaccurate perspective on n is that it is a variable which dependsnot only on the media involved, but also on the color of lightundergoing the refraction. At one end of the visible spectrum, thevalue of n for red light is roughly 1.3318, while for violet light at theother end of the spectrum, n is approximately 1.3435. This slightchange in n can be used to account for the angular spread betweenthe colors of the rainbow and their order. For example, our newvalue for n for red light yields a value of D to be 137:753, while withthe new value of n for violet D becomes 139:423. As a result, a isgreater for red than for violet and the red band appears above theviolet band in the sky (Adam, 2003, p. 89).
While this is clearly an explanation for (b) which can be easilycombined with our explanation of (a), it is not clear that this is thebest explanation of (b). Furthermore, when we press on thisexplanation for (b) and see an explanation which has a betterclaim on being the best explanation for (b), we will encounter theworry that our explanation of (a) is problematic as well. To seethe limitations of our explanation of (b) notice that we have treatedthe link between color and n as a series of brute facts. It is here thatan appeal to the wave theory of light promises to do better. For oncewe make the link between the decreasing wavelength of light andthe change in color from red through the visible spectrum to violet,we can account for the change in n. According to the wave theory oflight what is going on here is the more general phenomena of lightdispersion where the behavior of light can be affected by thewavelength of the light wave. A beam of white light is thenrepresented as a superposition of waves of various wavelengthswhich are separated as each component wave is refracted at aslightly different angle. Going further, we can use this waverepresentation to account for the physical claims which the rayrepresentation takes for granted. These claims include Snel’s Lawand the law of reflection.
On this view the best explanation of (b) takes light to be made upof electromagnetic waves. This is the best way to make sense ofthe colors of light and how the colors come to arrange themselves inthe characteristic pattern displayed by the rainbow. Now, though,we have a reason to doubt the explanation we have given for(a) because this explanation presented light as traveling alonggeometric rays. Without some relationship to our wave represen-tation of light, this account of (a) seems to float free of anything weshould take seriously. This point raises an instance of the centralquestion of this paper: how can we combine the resources of theclearly incorrect ray representation with the correct wave repre-sentation to provide our best explanations of features of therainbow? The answer that I would like to suggest follows imme-diately from a certain approach to idealization. This is that the rayrepresentation we have deployed need not require the assumptionthat light is a ray. It may assume only that in certain circumstancessome features of light can be accurately represented using the rayrepresentation. But what are those circumstances and how do theyrelate to these features? A first attempt to answer this questionmight draw attention to one of the mathematical relationshipsbetween the two representations. This is that the ray representa-tion results from the wave representation when the wavelength istaken to 0. Another way to put this makes use of the wave number k,which is equal to 2p divided by the wavelength. We then can putthis limit in terms of the wave number going to infinity. This leadsto a representation in which the wave-like behavior of light iscompletely suppressed. We can then track the path of the lightusing geometric lines and deploy simple rules like the law of
Fig. 2. Nahin (2004, p. 181).
Fig. 1. A rainbow.
C. Pincock / Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics 42 (2011) 13–22 15
Figure 5.1: The basic geometry of a ray incident on a spherical water drop. Thesingle internal reflection leads to the primary rainbow. O is the centre of the waterdrop, i the angle of incidence, r the angle of reflection. Reproduced from Nahin(2004).
The angle of the rainbow can be explained through applying the claim
that the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection and Snell’s Law to
the path of a light beam that hits a water droplet. The light beam undergoes
refraction, then internal reflection on the back surface of the water droplet,
140
and finally refraction when exiting the raindrop. Snell’s law and the geometry
of the circular water droplet allows us to claim that the total angle of deflection
of the light ray, D is equal to:
D = 180° + 2θi − 4 sin1 1
nsin θi (5.1)
where θi is the angle of incidence of the light ray on the water droplet. D, θi,
and α, the observation angle, are those in Figure 5.1. The rainbow occurs at
the angle that the majority of the light is refracted out of the water droplet
(see Figure 5.2). That is, the rainbow occurs at the angle where D is minimum
and α, as given in (5.2), obtains a maximum, for the light hitting the water
droplet at angles 0° < θi < 90°.
α = 180° −D
= 2θi − 4 sin1 1
nsin θi (5.2)
We find that the maximum value α may take is 42°, hence the angle of the
rainbow. Further, as this is the maximum angle, no light will be seen at a
greater angle than this: no light is refracted and reflected above the primary
bow.
In order to account for the distribution of colours, we note that n, the
refractive index, can vary depending upon the colour of the light incident on
the water droplet. The above calculation for the maximum value of α, at 42°,
assumed that the light was white, giving a refractive index of n = 43 . But
white light is composed of many colours of light, each of which has a different
refractive index. Thus we can run the calculation for the maximum angle of
reflection using the refractive index of red, orange, through to violet light and
establish the maximum value α takes for each colour. Here we find that α for
red light is 42.25° and for violet light is 40.58°. As θα red is greater than θα violet,
141
the red band of light will be above the violet.5J.A. Adam /Physics Reports 356 (2002) 229–365 235
Fig. 2. The paths of several rays through a spherical raindrop illustrating the di!erences in total de"ection anglefor di!erent angles of incidence (or equivalently, di!erent impact parameters). The ray #7 is called the rainbow rayand this ray de#nes the minimum angle of de"ection in the primary rainbow. (Redrawn from [4].)
deviation angle increases again. The ray of minimum deviation (#7 in Fig. 2) is called therainbow ray. The signi#cant feature of this geometrical system is that the rays leaving the dropare not uniformly spaced: those “near” the minimum deviation angle are concentrated aroundit, whereas those deviated by larger angles are spaced more widely (see also Fig. 3).Put di!erently, in a small (say half a degree) angle on either side of the rainbow angle (≃
138) there are more rays emerging than in any other one degree interval. It is this concentrationof rays that gives rise to the (primary) rainbow, at least as far as its light intensity is concerned.In this sense it is similar to a caustic formed on the surface of the tea in a cup when appropriatelyilluminated. The rainbow seen by any given observer consists of those deviated rays that ofcourse enter his eye. These are those that are deviated by about 138 from their original direction(for the primary rainbow). Thus the rainbow can be seen by looking in any direction that isabout 42 away from the line joining one’s eye to the shadow of one’s head (the antisolarpoint); the 42 angle is supplementary to the rainbow angle. This criterion de#nes a circular arc(or a full circle if the observer is above the raincloud) around the antisolar point and hence allraindrops at that angle will contribute to one’s primary rainbow. Of course, on level ground, atmost a semi-circular arc will be seen (i.e. if the sun is close to setting or has just risen), andusually it will be less than that: full circular rainbows can be seen from time to time at highaltitudes on land or from aircraft. In summary, the primary rainbow is formed by the de"ectedrays from all the raindrops that lie on the surface of a cone with vertex (or apex) at the eye,axis along the antisolar direction and semi-vertex angle of 42. The same statement holds for thesecondary rainbow if the semi-vertex angle is about 51 (the supplement of a 129 deviation).
Figure 5.2: Diagram demonstrating that light groups around the minimum angle ofdeflection. The ray numbered 7 is the ‘rainbow ray’ and defines the minimum angleof deflection, i.e. the rainbow angle θR. Reproduced from Adam (2002).
While the angle of the rainbow and the colour distribution can be explained
by a purely ray theoretic account, as above, this explanation can be seen as
lacking in certain respects. For example, the link between the colour of light
and refractive index is one of stipulation, or being treated as a “brute fact”
(Pincock 2012, pg. 226). Pincock argues that not only is the explanation for
colour problematic in this way, so too is the explanation for the angle: the pure
ray theoretic explanation leaves several parts of the explanation underdevel-
oped and unexplained itself. The solution is, roughly, that we can do better by
adopting a wave theoretic position and obtaining the ray theoretic explanation
through a transformation of the wave theoretic mathematics. More precisely,
we should adopt a particular idealisation of the wave theory that results in a
ray conception of light. This would then allow us to use the wave theoretic ex-
planation for why refractive indices vary by the colour of light: refractive index
5The smaller angle for the violet light puts it on the inside of the reflected light cone,the red on the outside. Hence, for the top half of the cone from our line of sight, red is atthe top of the rainbow, while violet is at the bottom.
142
depends upon the wavelength of the incident light, and wavelength determines
the colour of light.
One way of performing this idealisation would be to take the wavelength
of light to 0, which can also be understood as taking the wave number, k = 2πλ ,
to infinity. Unfortunately this idealisation leads to a representation that loses
the most important piece of the wave theory for accounting for the varied
refractive indices, the wavelengths of the differently coloured light. However,
there are still some wave like behaviours at this limit. Batterman (making use
of Berry (1981), and so providing a derivation of the ray representation that is
amenable to catastrophe optics) claims that a ray representation obtained by
defining rays to be normals to geometrical wavefronts displays such a feature.
Here, a ray is defined as the gradient of the optical distance function, which
is the Euclidean distance between the point of wavefront we take the ray to
be normal to, and some point P , where we are attempting to approximate the
wave via rays.6 There will be many rays passing through this point due to the
curvature of the wavefront, so it would be natural to consider the amplitude
and phase of the resultant wave to be due to contributions from all of these
waves. Using Fermat’s principle, defining the phase of the nth ray to be 2π
times the optical distance, φ, from the wavefront to P in units of wavelength,
and approximating the wave intensity by considering the flux through an area,
we obtain the shortwave approximation:
ψ(R, z) ≈∑n
∣det∂rn
∂R(R, z)∣
12
eikφn(R,z) (5.3)
Berry7 states that (Berry 1981, pg. 519-520):
[a]s a shortwave (or, in quantum mechanics, semiclassical) approxima-
tion, [(5.3)] has considerable merit. Firstly, it describes the interference
6See Batterman (2001), Figure 6.4, pg. 85.7As quoted by Batterman (2001), pg. 88.
143
between the contributions of the rays through R, z. Secondly, it shows
that wave functions ψ are non-analytic in k as k → ∞, so that short-
wave approximations cannot be expressed as a series of powers of 1k , i.e.
deviations from the shortwave limit cannot be obtained by perturbation
theory. Thirdly, in the shortwave limit itself [k = ∞], ψ oscillates in-
finitely fast as R varies and so can be said to average to zero if there
is at least some imprecision in the measurement of R in the intensity
∣ψ∣2, the terms from [(5.3)] with different n average to zero in this way,
leaving the sum of squares of individual ray amplitudes, i.e.
∣(R, z)∣2 =∑n ∣det∂rn
∂R(R, z)∣ (5.4)
when k = 8 and this of course does not involve k
This case suggests that it is possible to find a ray representation that still has
wave features present at the limit. However, this particular way of obtaining
the ray representation fails, not only because we’ve taken k → ∞, but also
because the amplitude it describes becomes infinite on a caustic. Rainbows
can be considered as caustics, so the shortwave approximation fails exactly
where it is needed.8
We therefore need to find an idealisation that gives us a ray conception
of light, yet allows us to refer to the wavelength of light in some way. The
suggestion is that we use the size parameter, β. This is a dimensionless pa-
rameter, defined as the product of the radius of the water drop, a, with the
wave number: β = ka = 2πλ a. Provided that the water droplet is large enough in
comparison to the wavelength of the incident light, we can use this idealisation
to describe the direction the light travels in with a ray. The idea is that the
distance between the wave crests is sufficiently small compared to the radius of
8See Batterman (2001, §6.3 for this discussion. The shortwave approximation fails interms of being unable to tell us how the intensity changes or the wave pattern (the fringespacings) on or near a caustic as k →∞ (Batterman 2001, pg. 88).
144
the water droplet, such that they appear as if they form a continuous straight
line. Thus we can still appeal to the wavelength of the light to account for the
differences in refractive index.
Pincock claims that “when [Batterman] is being careful”, he refers to this
limit (as opposed to the k →∞ limit). Further, we can see that van de Hulst
(1981) makes use of this limit. van de Hulst pioneered the use of the impact
parameter for light scattering, which associates a partial wave with an incom-
ing ray. This allows one to say that one has localised a partial wave to a ray.
Thus I propose that any ray representation thats use of the notions of impact
parameters or localised waves will make use of the β →∞ idealisation to obtain
its ray representation. Finally, in comparing the accuracy of a ray represen-
tation to the Mie solution, Grandy Jr makes use of the β → ∞ idealisation
from the Mie solution (Grandy Jr 2005, §4.3). As the Mie solution for the
rainbow is a wave theoretic solution, it is clear to me that we should adopt an
idealisation that obtains the ray representation from the Mie solution.
How one justifies this idealisation, and how one accounts for the structural
moves will depend upon which account of representation one adopts. In the
next two chapters, this idealisation will be appealed to. In the case of the IC,
it will be used as an example of the introduction of surplus structure due to
a limit. For the PMA, it will be used to discuss Pincock’s position of meta-
physical agnosticism. This is a position Pincock offers as a third response
to the predictive success of singular perturbations, after rejecting an instru-
mentalist position towards the mathematics and the metaphysical positions of
reductionism and emergentism.
5.3 The Mie Solution
The Mie solution is arrived at by solving the Maxwell equations for the scat-
tering of a plane wave of monochromatic light by a homogeneous sphere (the
145
water droplet). First, the Maxwell equations are solved for waves in an arbi-
trary medium. These general results are then applied to the specific case of
scattering of a plane wave by a homogeneous sphere. We find the potentials
inside the sphere, and for the incident and scattered waves outside the sphere,
and match coefficients. The scattered wave is then solved in the far field zone
to give the Mie solution, (5.5).9
Sj (β, θ) =1
2
∞∑n=1
[1 − S(j)n (β)] tn (cos θ) + [1 − S(i)
n (β)]pn (cos θ) (5.5)
(i, j = 1,2i ≠ j)
The Mie solution gives the scattering amplitudes of the scattered wave in
terms of the angular functions pn and tn and S-matrix elements Sjn, where the
S-matrix give the scattering of the partial waves in terms of phase shifts.
5.4 Supernumerary Bows & The CAM
Approach
The explanation of the angle and colour distribution that depended on a ray
conception of light, even the conception arrived at through the β → ∞ ideal-
isation, is incapable of providing an explanation of the supernumerary bows.
These are bands of constructive and destructive interference sometimes seen
inside the primary rainbow. The Mie solution is capable of providing an ac-
count of how these come to be, but the partial wave sum converges very slowly.
It needs terms in the order of the size parameter, typically over 5000 terms, to
produce a result which is sufficiently accurate, that allows for the later terms
to be disregarded.
The solution to this problem is to transform the Mie solution in a form9Full details of this derivation can be found in the Appendix, A, which draws on Nussen-
zveig (1992), Liou (2002), Adam (2002) and Grandy Jr (2005).
146
that converges much quicker, and thereby allowing us to ‘extract the physics’
from the solution. The approach taken is to apply the Poisson sum formula to
individual terms of the Debye expansion. We apply it to each term individually
as applying it directly to the Mie solution as a whole results in a series that
converges at about the same rate as the Mie solution itself (as will be shown
below). The Poisson sum formula, (5.6), allows for a infinite sum over a real
function to be transformed into an integral over complex variables.
∞∑l=0
ψ (Λ, r) =∞∑
m=−∞(−1)m
∞
∫0
ψ (Λ, r) e2imπΛ dΛ (5.6)
This move facilitates the analogy to quantum scattering and the description
of light as possessing a complex angular momentum. While a straightforward
application of the Poisson sum formula does not require the move into the
complex plane, this is required for generating the asymptotic approximations
that are essential for the CAM approach. In summarising the history of this
approach, Nussenzveig explains that Watson proposed a transform based on
equation (5.7) (which can be shown to be equivalent to the Poisson sum for-
mula).
∞∑l=0
φ(l + 1
2, x) = 1
2 ∫C φ (λ,x) e−iπλ
cosπλdλ (5.7)
This includes a contour integral, the path for which was chosen to be about the
real axis.10 Once in the complex plane, one can deform the paths over which
one is performing integrals, provided that one takes into account any possible
singularities. The singularities met are the poles of the function. Poles are
features of complex functions. The necessary concepts required to understand
what they are outlined in §A.6. Briefly, poles are found when the bn coeffi-
cients of the Laurent series expansion of f(z) are non-zero. The coefficient
10See Nussenzveig (1992), Figure 6.2, pg. 49.
147
b1 is described as the residue of f(z). When subjecting the scattering func-
tions to the CAM approach, they are transformed into a form that include a
residue series ; they include a sum over all poles in the complex plane and the
residue rn at pole λn. See, for example, Grandy’s discussion of the application
of the Watson transform to the partial wave series for quantum mechanical
scattering:11
[O]ne rewrites the partial-wave series as a contour integral:
f (E, q2) = 1
2i∫C
(2l + 1) fl (E)Pl (− cos θ)sinπl
dl (5.8)
where the contour C [surrounds the real axis, crossing the origin]. An-
alytic continuation is effected by deforming the contour to the vertical
and closing it to the left in two quarter circles to avoid the bound-state
poles. In doing so the contour ‘sweeps across’ a number of Regge poles,
thereby picking up the corresponding residues. . . . The result of this
continuation is the Watson transformation of the scattering amplitude:
f (E, q2) = 1
2i∫C′
(2l + 1) fl (E) Pl (− cos θ)sinπl
dl + πn
∑i=1
βi (E)Pηi(E) (− cos θ)
(5.9)
where the βi (E) are the residues of the integrand at the Regge poles with
the Legendre function separated out. The first term on the right-hand
side of (5.9) is referred to as the background integral, and the second is
the residue series.
The poles of the scattering function in the complex plane are known as
Regge poles. We concentrate on the Regge poles as the motivation behind the
CAM approach, specifically the path deformations they allow us to perform.
The idea is to (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 62):
11Grandy Jr (2005), pg. 47-49.
148
concentrate dominant contributions to the integrals into the neighbor-
hood of a small number of points in the λ plane, that will be referred
to as critical points. The main types of critical points are saddle points,
that can be real or complex, and complex poles such as the Regge poles
The saddle points (points where a curve in one direction has a maximum and
a curve in another has a minimum) are the major contributions to the back-
ground integrals (when the integrand has saddle points) (Nussenzveig 1992,
pg. 64). The contributions of these saddle points is found through the method
of ‘steepest descent’. This method will be outlined briefly below. It is found
to be wanting in the initial application of the CAM approach, which leads to
the development of the CFU method.90 The Debye expansion
Im.< . h ic t X X4 x
3 J 2 X I .x.x.x.x .. .x ... x ... JC ••• x .. .X····X···•·:'-x ... x ..
i-/1 0 fJ a x '.i.
St lt X ic : h'
Fig. 9.2. Regge poles for N > I and a given polarization. X poles; I narrow resonances; 2 broad resonances; 4 surface waves.
behavior is determined almost entirely by the geometry of the surface. The other class of poles, distributed above the real axis along a
curve j that extends to A. = a, is affected by the potential in the internal region. The poles located in region 1, between A. = f3 and A. = a, are associated with the narrow resonances formed in the domain between T and Bin fig. 9.1(a). They may approach very close to the real axis. These poles and their physical effects will be discussed in Chapter 14.
The poles in region 2, to the left of A. = /3, are farther from the real axis, corresponding to broader resonances above the top of the cusped barrier in fig. 9.1(a). To the left of the imaginary axis, in region 3, the poles tend to approach the negative integers.
The separation between the poles along the curve j is of order unity, so that the number of resonance-type poles in the first quadrant is 0 (/3). Since their imaginary parts are not large, a residue series over these poles would converge about as slowly as the partial-wave series. Thus, it would not be advantageous to apply the Poisson sum formula directly to the total scattering amplitude (5.6).
9.3 The Debye expansion
The convergence difficulties found, in contrast with the impenetrable sphere problem, when one tries to apply the CAM method directly to the total amplitude arise from the penetration of the waves inside the sphere. In the geometrical-optic limit, as illustrated in fig. 2.1, the interaction with the sphere is described as a sequence of interactions with its surface
Figure 5.3: Regge poles for N > 1. The x represent the poles. Those in region 1are those for narrow resonances, 2 for broad resonances, and 4 for surface waves.Reproduced from Nussenzveig (1992).
Applying the Poisson sum formula directly to the Mie solution and extend-
ing the result into the complex plane gives us the scattering function S(j) (λ,β),
given in (5.10). The Regge poles are the roots of 1β −mvjα = 0, the de-
nominator of S(j). These Regge poles can be placed into two classes. The first
of these are along the curves 4 and 5 in Figure 5.3. These are associated with
surface waves. The first class of poles are of relevance below, once we have
149
applied the Debye expansion, while the second class of poles are of immedi-
ate relevance. These are those found above the real axis along the curve j in
Figure 5.3. The separation of these poles is of the order 1, and their imag-
inary part is not large. As there are as many poles as O(β) in the relevant
part of the complex plane for the residue series, the series over these poles
will converge about as slowly as the partial wave series in the Mie solution.
Clearly, we need a form of the Mie solution that produces a residues series that
converges quicker than the partial wave series in the Mie solution, so applying
the Poisson sum formula as we have, directly to the Mie solution, is not the
way to go. Thus we turn to the Debye expansion of the Mie solution.
S(j) (λ,β) = −ζ(2)λ (β)ζ(1)λ (β)
[2β −mvjα1β −mvjα
] j = 1,2 (5.10)
[jz] = ln′ ζjλ(z) +1
2z(5.11)
[z] = ln′ψλ +1
2z(5.12)
The Debye expansion involves representing the multipole of index n in
the partial wave sums (found in the scattering amplitude equations, (A.123) -
(A.125)) in terms of incoming and outgoing spherical waves that are partially
transmitted and partially reflected at the surface of the sphere (rather than
the standing waves inside the sphere, and the scattered plane waves outside
the sphere) (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 144) (Adam 2002, pg. 283). As the Debye
expansion involves modelling the waves as partially transmitted and reflected
waves, we write the scattering function in terms of spherical reflection and
transmission coefficients (themselves expressed in terms of Henkel and Bessel
functions). For example, the external spherical reflection coefficient is given in
(5.14).12 The rest of the coefficients are given in equations (A.145) - (A.148)
in the Appendix.
12Note the difference in the definitions of [j] and [jz]. This difference is because theseequations have not yet been extended to the λ plane.
150
S(j)n = R22
n + T 21n
∞∑p=1
(R11n )p−1
T 12n (5.13)
R22n (β) ≡ −ζ
(2)n (β)ζ(1)n (β)
[2β] −mvj [2mβ][1β] −mvj [2mβ]
(5.14)
S(j) (β, θ) = Sj,0 (β,0) +P
∑p=1
Sj,p (β, θ) + remainder (5.15)
[jz] = ln′ ζjλ(z) +1
2z−1 (5.16)
[z] = ln′ψλ +1
2z−1 (5.17)
The Debye expansion of the total scattering amplitude, in terms of the
spherical reflection and transmission coefficients in (5.13). It is also given in
terms of the scattering amplitudes, is given in (5.15). Sj,0 is the direct reflection
term, Sj1 is the direct transmission term, and Sjp, where p ≥ 2 corresponds to
transmission following p−1 internal reflections. We now apply the Poisson sum
formula to each individual term. It is the p = 2 term that we concentrate on,
as it is responsible for the primary rainbow (as it is the term for one internal
reflection). We find a rapidly converging residue series for these terms. Here,
rather than Regge poles, we talk of Regge-Debye poles (to reflect that we
are dealing with the Debye expansion of the Mie solution). These poles are
found from the roots of the equation 1β−mvj2α = 0, which is the common
denominator of all of the spherical transmission and reflection coefficients. This
equation differs from the one used to find the Regge poles when we applied the
Poisson sum formula to the Mie solution by the substitution α→ 2α, which
reflects the change from standing waves to ingoing waves within the sphere.
When we look at the poles for the Debye expansion, we find only poles of the
first type outlined above (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 93-94). We also obtain a new
set of poles, found in the second quadrant of the complex plane, which have a
large imaginary part compared to the corresponding poles in the first quadrant.
151
One can see the Regge-Debye poles in Figure 5.4. Thus we expect that the
residue series contributions from the Regge-Debye poles to become rapidly
damped as n increases, and so we can obtain rapidly convergent asymptotic
expansions for each term of the Debye series through the CAM approach.94 The Debye expansion
lm,\
* X x X ,j_U> X n x. x x x 'i
Re-\ -a -(J 0 fJ a
Fig. 9.4. Regge-Debye pole distribution for N > I and a given polarizationj.
Regge-Debye poles are rapidly damped as n increases. It follows that the CAM method leads to rapidly convergent asymptotic approximations for each term of the Debye series.
The absence of resonance effects in individual Debye terms and the presence only of surface-wave type pole contributions agree with the physical interpretation of the Debye expansion as a description based exclusively on surface interactions.
The other question that has to be discussed is how fast the Debye series itself converges. While a fuller discussion of this question must wait until we have developed further insight into the behavior of the various terms, we can anticipate some of the results.
According to (9.7), successive terms of the Debye expansion differ by an additional factor pV)(A,J) in their Poisson transform integrands. For real A and N, by (9.9),
(9.12)
so that the rate of convergence depends on the magnitude of the internal spherical reflection coefficient within the A range that yields significant contributions.
Contributions from real saddle points are associated with geometrical-optic rays, for which the Debye terms are in one-to-one correspondence with the scattered rays 0, 1, 2, ... shown in fig. 2.1. The angle of incidence 81 in this figure is related to the saddle point I by
(9.13)
where we have employed the localization principle. The rate of convergence of real saddle-point contributions is the same as that of the multiple internal reflection geometrical-optic series, determined by the Fresnel internal reflection coefficient at the interface.
Figure 5.4: Regge-Debye poles for N > 1. Reproduced from Nussenzveig (1992).
When the CAM approach was first developed, it was non-uniform for all
m > 1 and for the domain 0 ≤ θ ≤ π (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 101). The domain
θR < θ < θL is covered twice (i.e. has incident light refracted at this angle from
two separate incident rays/waves), where θR is the rainbow angle and θL is
the maximum deflection angle (at θL = 4 cos−1 1m), leading to a subdivision at
the geometrical-optic level into three angular regions: the 0-ray (geometrical
shadow) region 0 ≤ θ < θR; the 2-ray region θR < θ < θL; and the 1-ray region
θL < θ ≤ π. In each region, the Poisson transformed scattering amplitude is
reduced to a background integral, which typically has contributions dominated
by the saddle points and a Regge-Debye pole residue series (Nussenzveig 1992,
pg. 102). We find that as θ increases from θ = θL towards θ = θR, there are
two saddle points which converge and meet at θ = θR. The rainbow is thus de-
scribed in the λ plane as the collision between two saddle points. A reason for
the non-uniformity of the CAM approach is that the method for establishing
the contributions due to the saddle points to the background integral breaks
down when the ranges of the saddle points overlap. The notion of the range of
a saddle point is introduced as, for asymptotic purposes, one does not always
have to pass through the exact saddle point, but through an approximation
152
to it. The notion of the range of the saddle point is supposed to clarify what
deviations are allowable. de Bruijn offers the following informal definition: “if
ζ is a saddle point of the function ψ, then the range of ζ is a circular neigh-
bourhood of ζ, consisting of all z-values which are such that ∣ψ′′(ζ) (z − ζ)2∣ is
not very large” (de Bruijn 1958, pg. 91).
The Chester-Friedmann-Ursell (CPU) method is an answer to the question
“what happens in the saddle-point method when two saddle points approach
one another?” (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 105). The original approach to provid-
ing an answer to this question involves the method of steepest descent. One
considers a general complex integral, such as in (5.18). Here the integral is
over some path in the w plane, where κ is an asymptotic expansion parameter
(like β) and is large and positive, and ε is an independent parameter (like θ).
If the integral is dominated by a single saddle point w = w(ε), around which
f and g are regular, one can approximate in this neighbourhood (5.19) where
f ′′w denotes the second derivative with respect to w.
F (κ, ε) = ∫ g(w)e[κf(w,ε)] dw (5.18)
f(w, ε) ≈ f(w, ε) + 1
2f ′′w(w, ε)(w − w)2 (5.19)
f(w, ε) = 1
3u3 − ζ(ε)u +A(ε) (5.20)
Choosing the steepest decent through w alters the relevant part of the integral
to a Gaussian type. An asymptotic expansion of the integral can be obtained
by adopting a change of variables that makes the exponent into an exact Gaus-
sian, followed by a power series expansion of g around the saddle point and
integration term by term (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 106). If there are two saddle
points, w′ and w′′, as in the 2-ray region, then their contributions can be added
independently provided that their ranges do not overlap, which is what occurs
when the two saddle points collide near θR. Thus, we need to adopt the CFU
153
method to establish what happens at θR.
The basic idea of the CFU method is to transform the exponent of (5.19)
into an exact cubic through a change of variables, e.g. (5.20). There the
two saddle points have been transformed into ±ζ 12 (ε). The crucial point is to
introduce “a mapping that preserves the saddle point structure”. Substituting
into (5.18) and suitable expansion of the integrand allows one to obtain an
equation for F (κ, ε) in terms of the Airy function, Ai.13 Making the relevant
substitutions to apply the general equation (5.18) to the rainbow case allows
us to write the dominant contribution to the third Debye term in the rainbow
region in the form of (6.1):
Sj2(β, θ) ≈ β76 e[2βA(ε)] [cj0(ε) + β−1cj1(ε) + . . . ]Ai [(2β)
23 ζ(ε)] (5.21)
+ [dj0(ε) + β−1dj1(ε) + . . . ]β−13Ai′ [(2β) 2
3 ζ(ε)]
where the CFU coefficients cjn(ε) and djn can be expressed in terms of the
Fresnel reflection and transmission coefficients and their derivatives of various
orders with respect to the angle of incidence, evaluated at the exactly known
saddle points θ′1, θ′′1 (the order of the derivatives increases with n) (Nussenzveig
1992, pg. 108). The CFU method allows for the CAM approach to be applied
uniformly for the whole range of θ.
5.5 Philosophical Responses
The two main contributions to the solutions found via the CAM approach are
those provided by the critical points, the saddle points and the Regge-Debye
poles. Throughout the derivations, we find references to the Regge-Debye poles
13The Airy function originates from Airy’s treatment of the rainbow, which made useof a cubic wave front. For more details see (Adam 2002, §2.1), (Nussenzveig 1992, §3.2),Grandy Jr (2005, Appendix B), etc.
154
as being interpreted in terms of surface wave contributions.14 This can either
be understood wave-theoretically, as waves that travel along the surface of the
drop rather than enter into the water droplet, or ray-theoretically as rays that
take shortcuts by being critically refracted along the edge of the water droplet
before being critically refracted back into the droplet. The saddle points are
often said to represent rays,15 though real saddle points can also be interpreted
in terms of points of stationary phase.16.
Exactly which interpretation one should adopt, and how that interpretation
is to be described in terms of which piece of mathematics is related to some-
thing else (more mathematics, the world, etc.) will vary according to which
account of representation one adopts. For the IC, the CAM approach provides
another, though different, approach to surplus structure than the β →∞ ideal-
isation appears to. The CAM approach is a clear case of moving to a different
mathematical model which will have to be related to the first mathematical
model before a physical interpretation can be found. The application of the
Poisson sum transformation and the work with saddle points and Regge-Debye
poles in the complex plane appears to be a use of surplus structure. The saddle
points and Regge-Debye poles will have to be mapped back to something in
the wave model before they can be given a physical interpretation. The CAM
approach is therefore an example of the iterative version of the IC, outlined in
Bueno & French (2012)
Pincock aims to distinguish his position from Batterman’s. Pincock claims
that interpreting the saddle points requires both ray and wave theoretic con-
cepts, which commits us to the ray theoretic concepts, but not some meta-
physical commitment to rays in a way he claims that Batterman’s position
requires, in terms of some kind of emergence. Thus the CAM approach, the
14Nussenzveig (1992, pg. 89-90); Adam (2002, pg. 282); Grandy Jr (2005, pg. 54).15Nussenzveig (1992, pg. 94, 102-107); Adam (2002, pg. 242-243, 284, 287); Grandy Jr
(2005, pg. 143, 159, 170-181).16Nussenzveig (1992, pg. 50); Grandy Jr (2005, pg. 39)
155
move to the complex plane and the way saddle points are physical interpreted
(either directly or by proxy) provides a point of contrast between the PMA and
Batterman, which will hopefully allow for a greater understanding of Pincock’s
metaphysical agnosticism. I will argue that, although the rainbow does not
involve a case of a singular perturbation, the moves involved are very similar
and so can be used to gain information on metaphysical agnosticism.
I will now turn to establishing how the IC and PMA can accommodate faithful
epistemic representation in detail.
156
6 | The Inferential Conception and
the Rainbow
6.1 Introduction
In Chapter 4 I argued in favour of understanding the Inferential Conception
and Pincock’s Mapping Account as accounts of faithful epistemic representa-
tion. I also argued that a key to the success of these accounts would be how
they accommodate idealisations. In this chapter and the next I will explore
how the two accounts aim to do this, focusing on two issues. The first issue
is the question (2.b), ‘how do the putative accounts of faithful epistemic rep-
resentation account for the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness?’
Answering question (2.b) will involve answering the following type of ques-
tions: what do the accounts have to say about how these two features are
related, if anything? Can they provide any explanation for how a less faith-
ful representation can be more useful than a more faithful one? And if so, is
this an explanation that can be generalised to all types of idealisations,1 or do
1The issue of how many ‘types’ of idealisation is an open and active one in the literature.McMullin (1985) offers a defence of Galilean idealisation, while Jones (2005) argues thatsome of these sorts of idealisations would be better accommodated as abstractions underhis scheme. Weisberg (2013) offers a different way of classifying idealisations, according towhich he distinguishes three types of idealisation. Rohwer & Rice (2013) offer another typeof idealisation consistent with Weisberg’s scheme and raise the possibility of there beingeven more. They also, correctly, criticise Weisberg’s classifying the idealisations focused onby Batterman as ‘minimalist’ idealisations (ones that isolate a single cause); they cannotbe such idealisations as Batterman explicitly denies he is identifying a causal feature of thesystems under investigation (Batterman 2001, §8.4). In this discussion I will be focusing
157
the differences between Galilean idealisations and singular limit idealisations
prevent the explanation from being generalised? The second issue concerns
the structural resources used by the accounts to accommodate the idealisa-
tions. Are the same structural resources used to accommodate different types
of idealisations?
I will find problems with both accounts in my investigation of these issues.
In this chapter I will be focusing on the IC, and I will look at the PMA in
the next chapter. The IC’s use of the partial structures framework is initially
promising. I will argue that the partial relations between partial structures
and the notion of partial truth are well suited to accommodating the variable
notion of faithfulness, and its relationship to the usefulness of a representa-
tion. However, I will identify a lack of consistency of how the R3 component is
employed across examples that are supposedly explanatory of how the partial
structures framework functions. This will lead me to identify a problem with
how to understand surplus structure on the IC. In attempting to answer this
question, I will identify four different types of surplus structure. I will argue
that these can be restricted to different parts of the SV and IC. This restric-
tion will result in a different way in which the partial structures framework
is to be employed in scientific representation in general2 and to how I believe
it has to be accommodated when the partial structures framework is used in
mathematical representation.3 Although this proposal looks promising, I con-
on Galilean and singular limit idealisations as they pose the most interesting philosophicalquestions.
2By ‘in general’ I mean instances where the representational vehicles involve interpretedmathematics. This instance of scientific representation will be contrasted to the instanceswhere we are concerned with how uninterpreted mathematics can represent the world. In thegeneral scientific instances, the introduction of surplus structure is prima facíe understoodas a move to uninterpreted mathematics. It is the lack of interpretation of the mathematicsthat will generate the problem for understanding surplus structure on the IC, though thesituation is move complicated than a simple more to uninterpreted mathematics, as outlinedin footnote 3.
3What constitutes surplus structure is more involved than the brief comment in the pre-vious footnote conveys. It requires “ ‘new’ structure which is genuinely ‘surplus’ and whichsupplies new mathematical resources” (French 1999, pg. 188). French characterises this asthe embedding of the original structure into a family of further structures, an insight at-
158
struct a dilemma for one type of surplus structure that the IC should be able
to accommodate. This dilemma needs to be answered for the IC to be an
acceptable account of mathematical representation; I outline several possible
solutions.
To finish my discussion of the problems of the IC and the PMA I will return
to the features of the rainbow I identified in the previous chapter: the singular
limit of taking the size parameter to infinity, and the introduction of complex
numbers in the CAM approach. In this chapter, I will discuss these features as
possible examples of the introduction of surplus structure. They will provide
a test case for the solutions I outline in response to problems raised in this
chapter.
6.2 The Inferential Conception and Idealisation
The Inferential Conception’s account of idealisation rests upon the partial
structures framework. It employs both aspects of this framework: the notion
of partial structures (and relations) and the notion of partial truth. I will
address how the notion of partial truth should be employed by the IC before
turning to the notion of partial structures. I argue that the notion of partial
truth should only be employed at the end of an application of the IC, after
the interpretation step. This raises the question of whether partial structures
should be employed during the derivation step of the IC, which subsequently
raises an issue for how to properly understand the notion of surplus structure.
tributed to Octávio Bueno. This move from a structure to a family of further structures doesnot change the point, however, that the structures must still be uninterpreted mathematics.This is made clear through French’s later discussion of how group theory provides us withmore structure that is ruled out by physical laws (French 1999, pg. 195) and the discussionof the relationship between group theory and quantum mechanics. Further evidence is givenin Bueno and French’s discussion of surplus structure: “we typically have surplus structureat the mathematical level, so only some structure is brought from mathematics to physics”(Bueno & French 2012, pg. 88, second emphasis mine).
159
6.2.1 Partial Truth and Idealisation
Proponents of the Semantic View (SV) of theories who employ the partial
structures framework support a view of idealisation that involves ‘as if’ de-
scription, where idealisations are taken as if they were true. This view of
idealisation can be underpinned by the notion of partial truth.4 The idea
is that an idealisation, although strictly false, can be considered true within
a restricted domain, and this is exactly what the notion of partial truth is
supposed to capture (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 19):
[W]e say that S is pragmatically true in the structure A if there exists an
A-normal B in which S is true, in the correspondence sense. If § is not
pragmatically true inA according to B, then § is said to be pragmatically
false in A according to B.
This view of idealisation is readily applicable to both idealised theories and
terms, which can be thought of as “idealizing descriptions laid down within
a theoretical context” (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 163). For example, to
“describe an electron as if it were a point particle is to lay down a bundle
of properties that have meaning only within a model or, more generally, a
structure”.
Thus, provided that all idealisations can be understood as ‘as if’ descrip-
tions, then partial truth can be used to explain why an idealisation might be
useful despite being partially faithful. Provided that the context within which
the idealisation is being used allows the idealisation to be considered ‘as if’
it were true, i.e. as partially true, then we have an explanation for why the
idealisation is useful: within the context the idealisation is true.
Further, the ‘partiality’ of the truth gives a measure of how faithful the
representation is. However, this must be measured external to the theoretical4See: French & Ladyman (1998), pg. 56-58; da Costa & French (2003), pg. 163; and
§4.2.1 - The Partial Structures Framework.
160
context, in that the representation must be compared to other representa-
tions to gage how partially true it is. Thus we can see how faithfulness and
usefulness are related, though come apart: one is external to the theoretical
context of the idealisation (the faithfulness, how partially true the idealisa-
tion is compared to the target) and the other is internal to the context (the
usefulness, that the idealisation is partially true within the context).5 The
threat to this view comes from idealisations which we cannot consider as ‘as
if’ descriptions. Galilean idealisations can be straightforwardly considered as
‘as if’ descriptions. It is not clear that the same can be said for singular limit
idealisations.
Galilean idealisations were first introduced by McMullin (1985).6 They
can be generally characterised as “a deliberate simplifying of something com-
plicated (a situation, a concept, etc.) with a view to achieving at least a partial
understanding of that thing” (McMullin 1985, pg. 248) and involves “assuming
as true . . . a proposition that is false” (McMullin 1985, pg. 255). McMullin
goes on to identify two places in which these simplifications can occur, either
the conceptual representation of the target (i.e. the representational vehicle,
the model) or the “problem situation” itself, and two different ways in which
these simplifications can occur in each place. Altering the conceptual repre-
sentation results in construct idealisation. This alteration can either occur
due to features known to be relevant to the situation being represented by the
model being simplified or omitted, which would be a case of formal idealisa-
5This distinction is how partial truth is used when discussing theories. Partial truthis related to the ‘intrinsic’ characterisation of theories, whereas the ‘extrinsic’ perspectiveconcerns the relationship between theories themselves, and between theories and the world.Strictly, the models cannot be considered partially true from the extrinsic perspective. WhenI said the partiality of the truth of the representations could be compared, I meant that thesize of the Ri could be compared. I will sketch this idea in the next section. See da Costa& French (2003) and French & Saatsi (2006) for more on the extrinsic/intrinsic perspectivedistinction.
6I will be using the general characterisation of Galilean idealisation below. Critical devel-opments and other characterisations of Galilean idealisation can be found in the referenceslisted in footnote 1.
161
tion, or through irrelevant features being left unspecified, which would be a
case of material idealisation. Altering the problem situation results in casual
idealisation. This involves the “move from the complexity of nature to the
specially contrived order of the experiments” and can occur either literally or
through thought experiments (McMullin 1985, pg. 365). These idealisations
are justified pragmatically. This is borne out in the idea of deidealisation,
the “adding back” of theoretical corrections which cannot be ad hoc if they
are to be justified deidealisations (McMullin 1985, pg. 259). The idea is that
Galilean idealisation should be capable of being deidealised given sufficient
computational power and sophisticated mathematical techniques.7
Singular limits are limits that result in a mathematical discontinuity, an
asymptote. They are the main focus of the work of Batterman.8 The most
important difference between idealisations due to singular limits and Galilean
idealisations, at least as argued for by Batterman, is that the singular limit
is essential to the idealisation. One cannot represent the situation properly
if one attempts to deidealise by stepping back from the limit. There is much
debate over the status one should grant to the models that result from taking
a singular limit. Batterman holds them to play essential explanatory roles9
whereas proponents of the partial structures approach often claim that the
resulting structures are cases of surplus structure10 (Bueno & French 2012, pg.
91). It is this claim that the structures which result from singular limits to be
surplus structures that causes a problem for the IC. But to see this problem,
we must take a step back.
In the above introduction of the ‘as if’ view of idealisations I mentioned
7See Weisberg (2013).8See Batterman (2001, 2005b, 2008, 2010) amongst others.9More precisely, the asymptotic limits produce “structures and properties [which] play
essential explanatory roles” (Batterman 2001, pg. 21).10They also argue that in the absence of an appropriate account of explanation the claim
that such structures do play an indispensable explanatory role cannot be sustained (Bueno& French 2012, pg. 101-103).
162
that theoretical terms could be understood as descriptions “laid down within
a theoretical context” (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 163, my emphasis). When
discussing idealisation in the context of scientific representation in general, as
is typical for discussions of how the partial structures facilitates the SV, the
theoretical context is provided by the interpretation of the model. For example,
take the idealisation of a cannon ball as only being under the influence of
gravity in a typical projectile problem in Newtonian Mechanics. The equations
used are interpreted in terms of Newtonian Mechanics. F , m, a and so on have
the interpretation of Newtonian force, mass and acceleration. When we are
mapping to an uninterpreted mathematical structure, however, there is no
theoretical context.
In fact, this lack of theoretical context is one of the benefits of moving
to surplus structures: it allows us to identify structural features, or relations
within the lower model that we could not without the extra mathematical
resources, as in the case of the relationship between quantum mechanics and
group theory (French 1999, §3). Group theory is useful for describing the
symmetry of systems. By understanding quantum states as displaying certain
symmetries, group theory can be introduced in order to give a more funda-
mental understanding of the symmetries. “An atom or an ion, whose nucleus
is considered as a fixed center of force O, possesses two kinds of symmetry
properties: (1) the laws governing it are spherically symmetric, i.e., invariant
under arbitrary rotation about O; (2) it is invariant under permutation of its f
electrons” (Weyl 1968, pg. 268), quoted in (French 1999, pg. 194-195). French
explains that the symmetries of type (1) are described by the rotation group,
while those of type (2) are described by the finite symmetric group of all f !
permutations of f things.
With symmetries of type (2) we find that the appropriate system space
for two indistinguishable individuals is reducible into two independent sub-
163
spaces, which are symmetric or anti-symmetric (French 1999, pg. 197). We
have surplus structure both from the ‘mix-symmetry’ state functions that de-
scribe the parastatistics, and if the state is one of bosons, then the fermion
subspaces can be considered surplus structure and vice versa (French 1999, pg.
198). Whether the quantum state is of bosons or fermions, however, requires
a map back to the empirical set up to establish which subspace is empirically
adequate. i.e. we do not establish what structure is surplus until we have
a theoretical context. Thus, a move to surplus structure cannot strictly be
called an idealisation, at least while we are within the mathematical domain,
as there is no theoretical context to provide the ‘as if’ description.11
Being unable to call a move to surplus structure an idealisation until we
move back to an interpreted model does not seem to be problematic when
partial structures are used for the Semantic View. However, it does seem
problematic when using partial structures to account for the applicability of
mathematics via the IC. According to the IC, there are only two places where
the mathematics has an interpretation: the initial and the final empirical set
ups. The immersion mapping takes us into the realm of uninterpreted math-
ematics, and the immersion step takes us back to an interpreted (in terms of
the world, or scientific context) structure. This means that during the ap-
plication of the IC, we cannot speak of there being an idealisation once we
have performed the immersion mapping, until we perform the interpretation
mapping to an empirical set up. So strictly on the IC, the only time we have
an idealisation is once we have obtained the final empirical set up, and this,
the interpreted (partial) structure of the empirical set up, is what we should
refer to when talking of an idealisation or idealised model on the IC.
This raises two further problems. First, strictly speaking, we do not have
11In the case of (1), there are many more representations of the rotation group thanphysically occur; hence we have surplus structure from group theory (French 1999, pg. 195).However, identifying what structure is surplus and what is physically significant requiresreinterpreting the mathematics, that is, providing a theoretical context for it.
164
idealised representations on the IC. Our representational vehicles are mathe-
matical structures and the targets are the empirical set ups. The IC accounts
for how mathematics can be used to obtain surrogative inferences about em-
pirical set ups. How, then, do we have idealised representations of the world?
The answer to this is to recognise that the empirical set ups are the represen-
tational vehicles, i.e. the models, of the SV. As such they can be considered
idealised representations when they are acting as vehicles for the SV, when it
provides an account of how scientific models represent the world.
The second problem is whether surplus structure makes sense within the
IC. Bueno’s and French’s response to Batterman’s position on singular limits
is to iterate the immersion mapping and consider the second mathematical
model to be surplus structure.12 This response is not possible if surplus struc-
ture is the move from an interpreted mathematical model to uninterpreted
mathematics, as the first immersion mapping has already taken us to an unin-
terpreted mathematical model. I will discuss this problem further below, after
looking at different roles partial structures have in the SV and the IC.
6.2.2 Partial Structures and Idealisations
Partial truth requires partial structures, but partial structures can provide
more than partial truth. They are employed in solutions to problems in major
areas in the philosophy of science, such as the structure of theories, inter-theory
relationships, the theory-data-phenomena relationship, and of course the ap-
plicability of mathematics. One can see that there are many more motivations
for adopting the partial structure framework than the associated notion of
partial truth.
One such motivation is to ground the notion of faithfulness. Above I argued
that partial truth could be used to explain how the partial faithfulness and
12Bueno & French (2012) provide this response to Batterman (2010).
165
usefulness of representations could be related. This explanation was vague,
talking of ‘how partially true’ an idealisation is as reflecting the faithfulness of
the representation. This notion can be made more precise by looking at the
(partial) relations between the (partial) structures that describe the idealised
model and the empirical set up, world, or whatever we are judging the faith-
fulness of the model against (i.e. the target). The faithfulness of the idealised
model can be measured by comparing the Ri of the model to the Ri of our
target, in the same way the ‘degree’ of similarity or approximation of models
can be measured (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 50-51), (da Costa & French
1990, pg. 261).
We can further supplement the explanation of why idealised models are
useful with the partial structures framework. In addition to the theoretical
context setting down what we are happy to consider ‘as if’ it were true, the
relationship between the target and the idealised model (a relationship that
might compose numerous partial structures and partial mappings) allows us to
see how that idealised model has some link to the target, yet be strictly false
when compared to the target directly. Thus the partial structures framework
provides an explanation, and a formal grounding for the explanation, of why
partially faithful models can be extremely useful.
As well as discussing the role that partial structures can play as a whole,
we can identify the roles that the individual components can play:
R1 Similarities between models, or between the empirical set up and the
mathematical structures.
R2 Dissimilarities between models, or between the empirical set up and the
mathematical structures.
R3 Providing the ‘openness’ of structure which allows for the introduction
of group theory as surplus structure (Bueno et al. 2002, pg. 514); “mis-
166
matches” between the empirical set up and the mathematical structure
when using the partial structures as a framework for accommodating
idealisations (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 359); and housing the mathe-
matical “technique” of the renormalization group (Bueno & French 2012,
pg. 103).
The descriptions of what the R3 component can be used for appear to be
confused. The first two roles indicate that the ‘openness’ of a partial structure
comes from the R3 component, but this ‘openness’ is cashed out in two very
different ways.
In the group theory case, this ‘openness’ involves the introduction of gen-
uinely new structure, i.e. surplus structure. Here group theory is appealed
to as a way of providing a greater understanding of the Bose-Einstein statis-
tics initially used to describe superfluidity. In attempting to provide a model
for the observed behaviour of liquid helium, London drew an analogy with a
Bose-Einstein ideal gas. Bueno et al. argue that it is the structural similarity
between the λ-point of helium (the phase transition that liquid helium under-
goes at 2.19°K) represented graphically and the discontinuity in the derivative
of the specific heat associated with a Bose-Einstein condensation that provides
this analogy, and the introduction (at a higher ‘level’) of the Bose-Einstein
statistics (Bueno et al. 2002, pg. 512). What is important for the present
discussion is that they claim the introduction of group theory allows for an
understanding of the Bose-Einstein statistics via considerations of symmetry,
the symmetry being represented group-theoretically (Bueno et al. 2002, pg.
514). The particular features of group theory that are appealed to are the ex-
istence of further “bridges” within the mathematics of group theory, specifically
the reciprocity relationship between the permutation group and the group of
all homogenous linear transformations (Bueno et al. 2002, pg. 508) (French
1999, pg. 199). The idea here, then, is that the ‘openness’ involves the use
167
of mathematics to gain a greater understanding of the structural relationships
within the original model by moving to a domain where we can explore the
structural relationships between the uninterpreted mathematics more easily
than we can between the interpreted mathematics, the moves being restricted
or obscured by the physical interpretation.
However, in the framework case, the ‘openness’ is cashed out in terms of
mismatches between the target and the (‘idealised’) mathematical structure
acting as the representational vehicle (Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 359):
The R1 and R2 components of the partial relations in the empirical set
up are mapped via the relevant partial isomorphism or partial homomor-
phism into the corresponding partial relations in the mathematical struc-
ture. However, the R3 components are left open. These components
correspond to the features of the idealization that bring mismatches be-
tween the actual empirical world and the mathematical model.
This quotation seems to indicate that all idealisations should be located in
the R3 component of the partial structure. Yet this component is supposed
to include statements for which we do not know whether they hold in the
structure.13 This causes a problem, as we can see if we pay attention to the
details of the economics example Bueno and Colyvan use to motivate their
claims that we can use the partial structures approach as a framework for
idealisations. This example is the attempt to model the rationality of agents
involved in running a business, where the goal is to maximise profits. One of
the idealisations involved is the ‘quantity idealisation’: the quantity produced,
qs, is assumed to equal the quantity demanded, qd (which is a function of price:
qd = D(p)): qs = qd = q. This allows us to calculate the profit as the difference
between the gross receipt, R, and the cost of production, C.14 i.e. Profit =13See the introduction of the partial structures framework in §4.2.1 - The Partial Struc-
tures Framework, and da Costa & French (2003).14The gross receipt is the product of the price and quantity demanded R = pqd. The cost
of production is a function of the quantity produced: C = C(qs).
168
R − C = pq = C(q).15 As the quantity idealisation is an explicit statement
about the model, it appears to be a statement that we do know is satisfied,
and so should be placed in R1. This immediately contradicts the claim in
the quotation that such idealisations should be placed in the R3 component.
However, we explicitly make this statement as an idealisation, and so know that
it is false, or at least some kind of misrepresentation, and so should be placed
in the R2 component. But if it is placed in the R2 component, then one cannot
use the idealisation to say anything positive about the world. The same goes
for a variety of other idealisations: frictionless planes, point particles, etc. It
appears there is a fatal flaw in the partial structures’ approach to idealisations,
due to the contradictory epistemic attitudes one is supposed to take. We do not
know which of the Ri components should contain the idealisation statement. I
shall call this problem the partial structures’ epistemic problem for idealisation.
There is a possible solution to the epistemic problem.16 One must remem-
ber that the content of representations on the IC is supposed to be uninter-
preted mathematics. Thus, when one equates qd and qs, one is not making
any statements about the world. One is simply equating two mathematical
variables to, for example, help ease the tractability of the problem one is at-
tempting to solve. Thus one is not obliged to place the idealised statement into
R2. But where should one place it? This idealisation does not seem capable of
being understood as being open; either qd = qs or qd ≠ qs. Thus I would argue
that it should be placed into the R1 component. So even with this possible,
and I think correct, solution to the epistemic problem, the claim that one can
use the R3 component to capture the openness of idealisations looks to be false.
Further, as the introduction to the partial structures shows, the matches and
mismatches between the target system and an idealised model are found in
15The price and quantity at which profits are maximised can now be calculated throughsimple analysis: pmax when dR−C
dq= 0.
16Thanks must go to Octávio Bueno for providing this response to the problem in con-versation.
169
the R1 and R2 components respectively in order for the ‘as if’ understanding
of idealisation to succeed.
A charitable interpretation of the openness framework claim might be that
features which are ‘screened off’ through idealisation come to be found in the
R3 component, such as in the case of the ideal gas. Here, an idealisation results
in the omission of some information, namely the internal structure of the gas
molecules (Jones 2005, pg. 189-190) (McMullin 1985, pg. 258). McMullin’s
explanation of these idealisations as ‘material’ idealisations in some Aristote-
lean sense is amenable to this charitable reading. He talks of the model as
including unspecified parameters or parts, of them being “open for question in
a different context”, that such models are “necessarily incomplete; they do not
explicitly specify more than they have to for the immediate purposes at hand”
(McMullin 1985, pg. 262-263). The charitable reading, then, might be that
the idea of ‘openness’ that Bueno and Colyvan are appealing to in the context
of the economics example is that such classical economics models ‘cover’ cer-
tain features of the world, in terms of leaving them unspecified, which can be
specified in a different context. The R3 component seems suitable for this job,
as it is supposed to accommodate statements for which we do not know, or for
which it has not yet been established, whether they hold in the structure or
not.
I do not think that this charitable reading is successful. It fails because this
‘openness’ in terms of mismatches between target and vehicle is given in the
context of a framework that is supposed to be general and accommodate all
types of idealisation. The charitable reading relies on one type of Galilean ide-
alisation. This would tie the ‘openness’ brought about by mismatches between
target and vehicle to this single type of Galilean idealisation for the partial
structures framework. Thus the framework would not be able to handle any
of the other numerous types of idealisation. The charitable reading should
170
therefore be dispensed with as a way of saving this ‘openness’ claim in general.
If all Bueno and Colyvan meant by this claim is that the economics example
is a case of material Galilean idealisation, then this notion of ‘openness’ can
survive.
The third role given above for the R3 component is that it houses the
‘technique’ of the Renormalization Group (RG).17 I will ignore any possible
significance over the terminology used to describe the RG. I will instead focus
on the fact that an application of the RG involves taking singular limits. This
allows one to understand such an application as a singular limit idealisation,
and therefore might involve surplus structure. This should mean that this
role of the R3 is the same as the role for group theory. However, it is not
clear that this is the case as the group theory role is within the context of an
SV use of the partial structures framework, whereas the RG role is discussed
within the context of an IC use of the partial structures framework. The
RG role implies the introduction of surplus structure due to a move from
an uninterpreted mathematical model to another uninterpreted mathematical
model. The London model group theory example introduces surplus structure
due to a move from an interpreted mathematical model to an uninterpreted
one, as well as implying surplus structure is related to the analogies drawn
between the Bose-Einstein and group theoretic models. There is clearly a
difference in how to accommodate surplus structures between the SV and the
IC.
The above discussion shows that there is some motivation to adopting
partial structures in the derivation step to accommodate surplus structure.
But this motivation requires refinement, due to the difficulty in understanding
exactly what surplus structure is on the IC. I now turn to clarifying the notion
17See Batterman (2005a, 2011) for some of Batterman’s introductions and discussionsof the renormalisation group, and Bueno & French (2011) for an explanation and responsefrom the IC perspective. Kadanoff (2000) provides a textbook introduction to the topic.
171
of surplus structure, identifying what role the IC should accommodate.
6.2.3 Surplus Structure on the Inferential Conception
Thus far I have been working with a definition of surplus structure as the in-
troduction of genuinely new structure, but I have also talked about it as the
move from interpreted mathematics to uninterpreted mathematics. That is,
the genuinely new structure is always new uninterpreted mathematical struc-
ture. However, there is an ambiguity in the literature over what constitutes
surplus structure. The notion of surplus structure as the introduction of new
structure and involving a move from interpreted to uninterpreted mathematics
is based upon the way the term is used in the discussion of how group theory
is related to Bose-Einstein statistics in the London-London case by Bueno et
al in their (2002). This example is of the same kind as the case of analytic
S-matrix theory in elementary particle physics (Redhead 1975, pg. 88) (Red-
head 2001, pg. 80). Here scattering amplitudes are considered as functions of
real-valued energy and momentum transfer. These functions were continued
into the complex plane and axioms concerning the singularities of the func-
tions in the complex plane were introduced to set up systems of equations
which “controlled” the behaviour of the scattering amplitudes considered as
functions of the real, physical, variables. The common feature of these two
examples, group theory and S-matrix theory, is that “there was no question of
identifying any physical correlate with the surplus structure” (Redhead 2001,
pg. 80).18 These two examples are contrasted to cases where “what starts as
surplus structure may come to be seen as invested with physical reality”, that
is, what starts as surplus structure, uninterpreted mathematics, gains an in-
terpretation. Redhead offers the examples of the kinetic theory of matter as
viewed by positivists before the discovery of Brownian motion (Redhead 1975,
18The symmetries of type (1) in the group theory and quantum mechanics example fromFrench (1999) is this kind of surplus structure.
172
pg. 88), energy (Redhead 2001, pg. 80-81) and the negative energy solutions
to the Dirac equation (Redhead 2001, pg. 83).19 These were first thought to
be artefacts of the mathematics, then came to be interpreted as ‘holes’ in a sea
of negative energy electrons before finally being reinterpreted as positrons.20
Redhead also outlines two further roles for surplus structure: certain ideal-
isations, such as representing physical magnitudes by the real numbers, can
“[add] (surplus) structure to the physics rather than stripping it away, as in
alternative senses of idealization”, i.e. formal Galilean idealisations (Redhead
2001, pg. 83); and as a way of accommodating Hesse’s account of how theories
develop through analogous models.2122
The last of these roles for surplus structure, that of accommodating Hesse’s
account of theory development, is clearly not a role that the IC should accom-
modate: this is something that the SV handles as it involves inter-theory
relations (da Costa & French 2003, pg. 47-52). The second and third roles can
be accommodated by the IC. The notion of there being more mathematical
structure compared to physical structure, what underlies the particular type
of idealisation that Redhead highlights as the third role, is noted by Bueno
and Colyvan in their criticism of Pincock’s original mapping account (Bueno &
19The symmetries of type (2) in the group theory and quantum mechanics example fromFrench (1999) is this kind of surplus structure.
20I outlined Dirac’s attempts at interpreting the negative energy solutions in §2.2.2.21Redhead, summarising Hesse (1963) states that “theories can develop by providing
physical interpretation for [the] surplus structure and [she] argues persuasively that thejustification for obtaining a successfully strongly predictive theory by this manoeuvre de-pends on pre-theoretic material analogies with an analogue model which already providesan interpretation for the surplus structure” (Redhead 1980, pg. 149).
22Teller provides an alternative distinction between two types of surplus structure:strongly surplus structure where the mathematical formalism has interpreted elements thatnever have actual physical correlates, and weakly surplus structure where the mathematicalformalism contains some uninterpreted elements (Teller 1997, pg. 25-26). He also describesthe example of the negative energy solutions of the Dirac equation as being apparent surplusstructure. Teller is clearly working with a conception of surplus structure similar to the oneI have been thus far, that surplus structure has to be uninterpreted mathematics. However,Teller also goes on to argue that genuine surplus structure should be “shunned”, both inthe weak and strong cases, which leads me to think that his conception is slightly differentto mine. I will not discuss Teller further, as I will argue that the Redhead conceptions ofsurplus structure can be accommodated by the IC and the SV.
173
Colyvan 2011, pg. 348). However, given what I have argued above about ideal-
isation, this ‘surplus structure’ should only present itself in the final empirical
set up, after mapping from the resultant structure (as within the derivation
step, before the interpretation mapping, we haven’t finished representing any-
thing yet). The second case can be accommodated by the IC in a similar way.
Bueno and Colyvan explain that the multiple interpretations of the Dirac neg-
ative energy solutions consist in adopting different partial morphisms from the
resultant structure of the Dirac equation, to different empirical set ups (Bueno
& Colyvan 2011, pg. 364-366). Here the surplus structure would be mapped
to the Ri component of the empirical set up depending on the interpretation,
e.g. the R2 component when they are dismissed as being unphysical.
The crucial distinction between these two cases and the first is at which
stage the surplus structure is identified within the IC. The second and third
cases concern structure that is surplus after the derivation step, and involve
the relationship between the resultant structure and the empirical set up. As
the first role involves mathematics that will not be physically interpreted, this
suggests that the surplus structure will be structure obtained after the iteration
of the immersion mapping, i.e. it will be in the Model 2 of the iterated IC.
The problem I intend raise concerning the plausibility of surplus structure on
the IC is targeted at the first type of surplus structure. ‘Surplus structure’
will refer exclusively to this first role from this point on.
While there is a clear division between interpreted mathematics (the scien-
tific models) and the uninterpreted mathematics that constitutes the surplus
structure when discussing the SV, this division completely breaks down when
one applies the IC. The immersion and interpretation step can be iterated;
Bueno and French argue that this iteration is the way to account for cases of
surplus structure, such as an application of the RG (Bueno & French 2012, pg.
91-92):
174
One of the features of the account we advocate is that it can accom-
modate the role of surplus mathematical structure, whereby a given
physical structure can be related via partial homomorphisms (or some
other partial morphism) to a suitable mathematical structure, which in
turn is related to further mathematical structure, some of which can
then in turn be interpreted physically (see Bueno (1997), Bueno et al.
(2002) and Bueno & Colyvan (2011)). We can represent such a surplus
structure within the inferential conception by straightforward iteration:
the initial mathematical model (Model 1) that is used to represent the
original empirical set up is itself immersed into another model (Model 2),
which gives us the surplus structure, and the results are then interpreted
back into Model 1, which only then is interpreted into the physical set
up.
I have challenged that such an iteration can lead to surplus structure. Model
1 is already uninterpreted mathematics, and so ‘surplus’ in the sense of being
uninterpreted. An iterated immersion mapping to Model 2 does not alter this.
There must be more to the notion of surplus structure. When discussing the
application of group theory (both to quantum mechanics and superfluidity)
it is the shift from interpreted to uninterpreted mathematics in addition to
that uninterpreted mathematics providing genuinely new structure which does
the novel work (Bueno et al. 2002, pg. 508-509). This still does not solve the
problem; there must still be yet more to the notion of surplus structure.
Another feature of surplus structure can be identified by looking to how
the IC can accommodate the application of mathematics to other mathematics.
The situation is the same as the iteration case: one maps from uninterpreted
mathematics to other uninterpreted mathematics. Bueno and Colyvan lever-
age the IC to explain how the unification of the two different domains of the
complex numbers and the theory of differential equations can be understood in
terms of importing structure into different domains (Bueno & Colyvan 2011,
175
pg. 364). What is emphasised is the introduction of “new inferential relations
[where] [u]nification emerges . . . as the result of establishing such inferen-
tial relations among apparently unrelated things”. So the reason that surplus
structure is so useful is three fold: there are surplus structural resources; un-
interpreted mathematics provides such surplus structural resources; and these
surplus uninterpreted mathematical resources provide new inferential relations
to bring to bear on our original structures. Described as such, there seems to
be less problem in moving from one mathematical structure to another, and
describing the second as surplus structure.
There is a problem, however, in how this move is supposed to be accommo-
dated if one takes surplus structure to involve partial structures. In the group
theory case, it is argued by Bueno et al. that group theory comes to enter the
discussion through the openness of London’s ‘rough and preliminary’ model,
that is, through the R3 component: “Retaining the component associated with
Bose-Einstein statistics, understood group-theoretically, new elements were in-
troduced . . . corresponding to a move from our R3” (Bueno et al. 2002, pg.
514). From this discussion I think one has to infer that group theory is some
how ‘in’ the R3 component already, for it be capable of being introduced. Or
perhaps more coherently, there are structures in the R3 that are (partially)
iso-, homo-, or otherwise, -morphic to the structures of group theory. But this
begs the question of what limits the R3? If the R3 is to truly represent ‘open-
ness’, it has to be capable of introducing more than one type of mathematics,
more than group theory. It has to be open to the agent to introduce various
different types of mathematics; the physical interpretation is what picks out
group theory (and only certain parts of group theory) as being appropriate
to the application at hand, not the content of R3.23 Given this, one must be
23As we are dealing with the first type of surplus structure here, the physical interpreta-tion comes from mapping the group theoretic results to the Bose-Einstein model, and thisbeing mapped to an empirical set up. The group theoretic resultant structure does not geta direct physical interpretation.
176
capable of extending the original structure to any type of mathematics. This
problem should be recognised as being a serious problem, as it appears any
time we apply mathematics. There is no way to predict whether we will need
to turn to surplus structure in any given application of mathematics (or at
least any novel application of mathematics). Thus, any application of mathe-
matics will require all mathematical structures in the R3 (or again, structures
that are (partially) -morphic to all mathematical structures).
It appears that if we understand surplus structure in terms of partial struc-
tures, then our partial structure must contain all mathematical structures in
the R3 component. Call this the Very Large R3 Problem. This problem creates
a dilemma for the proponents of the partial structure framework. Either they
must admit the Very Large R3, or they must introduce some way of constrain-
ing the R3. However, as has been argued, the derivation step takes part in the
domain of uninterpreted mathematics, where physical considerations do not
play any role (to avoid the epistemic problem and to maintain the ‘as if’ view
of idealisation). Thus there is a problem concerning what we can appeal to in
order to constrain the mathematical moves we make (and hence R3). Call this
the Mathematical Restriction Problem. The Mathematical Restriction Prob-
lem can be understood as an attempt to cut off the Very Large R3, by providing
a reason to only include structure that is (partially) morphic to the relevant
mathematics (e.g. group theory) in the R3. If this problem cannot be solved,
then we have to deal with the Very Large R3 Problem. These two problems
thus compose the two horns of a dilemma. Let us start by attempting to deal
with the Mathematical Restriction Problem.
There are two ways in which we can attempt to restrict the mathematics
that might be required for the R3: reasons that are either internal or external
to the mathematics. Looking first at the internal reasons: there might be some
intrinsic feature of the mathematics that leads us to prefer to the adoption of
177
a certain transformation than other. For example, we might decide that a
Fourier transform is more appropriate than a Taylor expansion due to the
original function being periodic. This sort of restriction, however, is not the
kind of restriction we require. This only restricts which moves we take, not
which moves are available. This is a ‘use’ restriction, in that it restricts what
mathematics we use in the model. What we are looking for is a restriction
that prevents certain mathematics from being in the R3 in the first place, i.e.
a restriction in principle rather than in practice. A possible solution might
be to opt for a kind of negative solution. Some extensions can be seen to be
very ‘natural’, in that there are strong internal mathematical reasons for the
extensions. Take as an example the extension of real functions into the complex
plane. It is reasonable to claim that to properly understand any real function,
one has to extend it into the complex plane. Hence, this extension is ‘natural’
in that it is required for a proper understanding of the function at hand. We
can then put forward the claim that any non-‘natural’ extension should not be
included in the R3 component. While promising, this requires more work to see
whether it is a viable option. It is plausible that this non-‘natural’ restriction
might be too restrictive in some instances.
I think that there are four external reasons to restrict the R3:
(a) physical interpretations;
(b) tractability concerns;
(c) intentions of the scientists/representing agents;
(d) pragmatic, contextual and heuristic reasons.
(a) can be rejected immediately. We are dealing with the first type of surplus
structure, which has no chance of being physically interpreted. Physical inter-
pretations therefore have no bearing on what we need to place in the R3 for
178
this type of surplus structure. (b) can be dismissed as tractability can be con-
sidered a ‘use’ restriction rather than an in principle restriction. Tractability
will prevent us from pursuing certain lines of mathematical enquiry, but it will
not prevent them from being possible avenues and hence having to be included
in the R3.24
(c) and (d) come together and are initially the most promising solutions.
The agents performing such representations have intuitions about what sort of
mathematics would be best to find the sort of structural relations or features
that might have a bearing on the models they require the surplus structure
to enlighten. This seems promising: the solution can be incorporated into the
agents intentions, provided that the earlier comments concerning the agents
intentions25 and the idealisation of the IC26 hold. This is only the sketch of a
solution, however. A lot more needs to be said by the proponents of the IC
on exactly what constitutes the heuristic, pragmatic and contextual consider-
ations, given that they are relied on so heavily throughout the discussion of
the IC and other applications of the partial structures framework.
So much for the first horn of the dilemma. Let us assume for the sake of
argument that the above possible solutions fail. What of the second horn of the
dilemma, the Very Large R3 Problem? If we cannot restrict the mathematics
24This dismissal might be too quick. Tractability can be considered both internal andexternal to the mathematics. For example the Mie solution provides an exact solution forthe scattering of light by a water droplet for the rainbow. It converges slowly, but solutionscan be found with modern computers. The mathematics is therefore tractable internallyin the sense that we can solve the equations. One can consider it to be intractable in anexternal sense, however, as physicists claim that it is hard to ‘see the physics’ within theMie solution.
25See §4.2.1, where I argue that the intentions should not be included in the representationrelation, on pain of fixing the target of the representation, and relate to the particularstructural relation involved in a particular representation. I also discussed the role pragmaticand contextual factors played in identifying the empirical set ups and structural relations.The discussion there was focused more on the interpretation mapping. If similar argumentshold for the interpretation mapping, then this response has some plausibility.
26I’m referring here to the second way in which the IC might be idealised, that “the math-ematical formalism often comes accompanied by certain physical interpretations” (Bueno &Colyvan 2011, pg. 354). This was also discussed in §4.2.1. I rejected any interpretations ofthe mathematics in the derivation step, claiming that the role played by these ‘interpreta-tions’ was accommodated by the pragmatic, heuristic, and contextual considerations.
179
we have to include in the R3, it looks like the Very Large R3 Problem is a
bullet the proponents of the partial structures approach will have to bite. But
there are at least two ways in which the proponents might bite it. They might
either reify the partial structures, which would lead to a problem, or insist that
while they are biting the bullet, it is not a problem as the partial structures
are simply a representational device and so a large R3 has no consequence.
The argument for reifying the partial structures is as follows. The size of
and the content of the partial structures is significant, e.g. the size of the
Ri grounds the notion of how ‘faithful’ a representation is. Hence the size
of the R3 cannot be dismissed. As we are using mathematical structures as
our representation vehicle, we are not dealing with a representation of the
structures, but the mathematical structures themselves. We reify the partial
structures when in the mathematical domain. Therefore the argument that a
very large R3 being required to introduce surplus structure is an argument that
we need a mathematical structure that contains all of mathematics in its R3
component. This, however, raises the problems of how we are to make sense
of and deal with such a large mathematical structure. There is serious work
to be done here to justify such a position, especially given the strong support
the next response has, that the partial structures are representational devices.
Insisting that the partial structures are representational devices has strong
textual evidence.27 This response, while simple, raises some immediate prob-
lems. First, what does it mean to have a representation that suffers from the
Very Large R3 Problem? What is the very large R3 representing? If it is rep-
resenting the situation that we require all mathematics in order to understand
surplus structure, the Very Large R3 Problem is not solved, we’ve merely re-
formed it at the level of the mathematics we are representing. Alternatively,
one might claim that the Very Large R3 isn’t representing anything at all, as a
27See the discussion of this in §8.3. See also French (2012) and (Bueno & French 2011,§9.7).
180
way to avoid the problem. But this seems to render the whole notion of partial
structures and surplus structure useless. What is the justification for adopting
the partial structures in some areas and not others (such as the Very Large
R3)? This move risks being ad hoc, and so does not seem like a viable option.
There is clearly work to be done here to explain exactly what consequences
the position of the partial structures being simply representational devices has
on the Very Large R3 Problem. The consequences are not obvious, and the
proponents of the partial structures program owe us more.
A possible way out of this problem is to avoid biting the bullet altogether,
by not requiring partial structures in the derivation step. In order to establish
whether we do, we need to look at whether we can move from one uninterpreted
mathematical structure to another in a way which introduces the necessary
surplus mathematical resources with full structures. It appears that the usual
model-theoretic notion of structure extension is incapable of doing this (French
1999, pg. 188):
However, the mathematical surplus which, it is claimed, drives these
heuristic developments cannot be captured by the usual model-theoretic
notion of a structure extension since this simply involves the addition
of new elements to the relevant domain with the concomitant new rela-
tions. What is required is ‘new’ structure which is genuinely ‘surplus’
and which supplies new mathematical resources. Thus an appropriate
characterisation would be one in which T ′ is itself embedded in an en-
tire family of further structures - T ′′, T ′′′ and so on - and this may then
capture the heuristic role of mathematics in theory construction.:’
Understanding a move to surplus structure as involving a move to a fam-
ily of structures does not require the notion of partial structures or partial
-morphisms. They are introduced by French to accommodate the “incomplete-
ness and openness of the heuristic situation” of applying mathematics to the
181
world (French 1999, pg. 192). However, we do need to use partial structures
in the derivation step in order to make use of the partial mappings in the
immersion and interpretation steps.
We can motivate the idea of surplus structure involving an embedding to a
family of structures to solve the problem of whether surplus structure makes
sense on the IC. It seemed that since the defining features of surplus structure
were the uninterpreted mathematics allowing new inferential relations to be
drawn, that there was no difference between the the Model 1 and Model 2
of the iterative application of the IC that one would expect in order to call
Model 2 a case of surplus structure. Now, we can argue that Model 2 isn’t
a ‘model’, but rather a family of models. That is, an iterative application of
the IC that leads to surplus structure moves one from a singular mathematical
model, Model 1, to a family of mathematical models (structures), which is
labeled Model 2.
The question now is whether these solutions to the problems above actually
work. To test this, I will turn to my case study of the rainbow, to the two
instances of what could be considered surplus structure: the taking of the size
parameter, β, to infinity; and the introduction of the complex plane in the
CAM approach. These are two different ways of introducing surplus structure;
for the solutions above to be useful, they have to accommodate both of these
ways of introducing surplus structure.
6.3 The IC Applied to the Rainbow
6.3.1 β →∞
Taking the size parameter to infinity is proposed as a way of obtaining a ray
theoretic representation from wave theory. This is to allow an explanation of
the colour distribution of the rainbow via the wave theoretic concepts that un-
182
derpin this ray theoretic representation. Specifically it allows one to appeal to
various values of the wave number, k, to give a different value of the refractive
index, n, for each colour of the rainbow. This is in contrast to obtaining a ray
representation from wave theory by taking the wave number to infinity. This
approach fails if we wish to investigate the rainbow, however, as at the rainbow
angle we have infinite intensity and amplitude. We lose the information we
need to discuss the distinct colours and their particular refractive index, n.
Thus we turn to a ray theoretic model obtained form the Mie solution.
The question that needs to be answered in this section is whether the β
limit is a singular limit, and if it is a singular limit, does the model that
results from it fulfil the definition of being surplus structure, i.e. a family
of uninterpreted mathematical structures that provide additional inferential
relations? Proponents of the IC hold the view that the models that result
from singular limits are ones of surplus structure (Bueno & French 2012, pg.
91). Thus, if the β limit is singular and does not result in surplus structure,
an adjustment will have to be made to the IC.
Grandy Jr states explicitly that we need to take the limit in order to intro-
duce a cut off and convert the infinite sum of the scattering functions into an
integral (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 120). Here an attempted separation of the ef-
fects of diffraction and reflection is made. The partial wave coefficients, an and
bn (given in (A.121) and (A.122) in the Appendix, and (3.140) in Grandy Jr
(2005, pg. 101), describe the effects of diffraction and the scattering func-
tions SEn and SMn (given in (A.123) and (A.124) in the appendix and (3.141) in
Grandy Jr) describe the reflection. A cut off is introduced by letting an = bn = 12
for n + 12 < β, and 0 otherwise. The conversion of the sum in the scattering
functions to an integral depends on fixing cos(θ) ≡ (n + 12) θ as n → ∞. This
allows us to adopt approximations for πn and τn to put the upper limit of the
183
integral as β:
S1 (θ) = S2(θ) ≃[β]∑n=1
(n + 1
2)J0 [(n +
1
2) θ] (6.1)
→β
∫0
λJ0 (λθ) dλ = β2J1 (βθ)βθ
where λ is the continuum extrapolation of n + 12 when we replace the sum by
an integral over all relevant impact parameters.28 Grandy Jr emphasises that
“introduction of a cutoff and direct conversion of the sum to an integral are
gross approximations that can be valid only in the limit β → ∞” (Grandy Jr
2005, pg. 120, my emphasis). The rest of the analysis requires taking fur-
ther asymptotic expansions, such as the Debye asymptotic expansions given
in Grandy Jr (2005, Appendix C). Eventually we obtain the equation for the
rainbow angle:
yR = sinθR2
= (8 + n2c)3n2
cosθ
2= s3
n2(6.2)
It is clear from Grandy Jr’s analysis that we have to be at the limit in order
to make use of these approximations. It is also clear that the mathematics
involved is not surplus structure. There are no obvious mathematical moves
we can make from this equation to recover a wave theoretical model. While
it might seem that we can map from the angle here to the angle in the Mie
solution in some way, I don’t think that such a mapping would be appropriate.
This would have the effect of providing an interpretation of the angle as an
angle between normals to wave fronts, rather than between rays. Given that
the motivations for finding a ray theoretic model from the Mie solution was
to provide a ray theoretic explanation of the colour distribution, adopting a
mapping that results in a wave theoretic interpretation of the angle would not
28With the additional approximation of sin θ by θ in the the Airy diffraction pattern.
184
only be unmotivated, but would actually be providing the wrong interpretation
of the angle. Thus we must conclude that the singular limit of β → ∞ does
not result in a model that is surplus structure, and so is a counter example to
the claim that singular limits result in surplus structure.
So how should we make sense of the model we obtain by the singular limit
of β → ∞ on the IC? I think that we have to recognise it as a normal Model
1 obtained via a mapping from an empirical set up. This would require us to
adopt the Mie solution as our empirical set up. Such an empirical set up is
worrying, however. The Mie solution appears to be far too mathematical to be
the starting point for an application of mathematics. While Bueno and Coly-
van claim that the empirical set up need not be entirely free of mathematics,
describing it as “the relevant bits of the empirical world, not a mathematics
free description of it”, and claim that “very often the only description of the set
up available will invoke a great deal of mathematics”, adopting something like
the Mie solution as the empirical set up seems a step too far (Bueno & Colyvan
2011, pg. 354). I can offer a two part response to this worry. First, there is
no need to require the empirical set up to be a completely novel description of
the world. We have already had to apply mathematics to the world in order to
obtain the Mie solution. When we did, we would have mapped the mathemat-
ics of those solutions to a final empirical set up, providing the interpretation
of them. We can adopt this empirical set up as our starting point, and any
complaint that it involves too much mathematics can be answered by pointing
to that previous application (or those previous applications) of mathematics
and how the structures mapped to and from in those respective empirical set
ups were identified. Second, the Mie solution are derived from the Maxwell
equations and are exact solutions. They are as accurate a description of the
world as we can expect from classical mechanical laws. If there is any empir-
ical set up that could be considered the “only description of the set up [that]
185
invoke[s] a great deal of mathematics”, then one involving the Mie solution is
an extremely good candidate.
The above considerations prompt an adjustment to when we can claim
surplus structure has been obtained via a singular limit in the context of the
IC. When a singular limit is used to move from Model 1 to Model 2 (in an
iteration of the IC), Model 2 is surplus structure. When a singular limit is
used to move from the initial empirical set up to Model 1 (whether there is
a Model 2 or not), Model 1 is not surplus structure, but a typical Model 1.
This adjustment removes any special features from the singular limits. i.e. A
singular limit no longer entails surplus structure on the IC.
A potential criticism of this solution is that we should not be moving from
the empirical set up to the mathematical domain via a singular limit. This
is motivated by some intuitions: first that singular limits only make sense
between mathematical structures (i.e. they should only take place between
Model 1 and Model 2); and second, and slightly differently, that moving from
the empirical set up to a mathematical model via a singular limit is ‘too quick’.
The idea here is that singular limits require some setting up of the situation
mathematically, before we can perform them. i.e. There are moves we to
take in the derivation before we perform the singular limit of β → ∞. The
first of these intuitions can be rejected by either pointing to the mathematics
involved the empirical set up, or positing that we move to a Model 1 that is
isomorphic to the empirical set up before taking the limit (and do not always
do so explicitly). The second intuition can be assuaged, though not rejected,
by claiming that the empirical set up we use in such a situation comes from
another application of the IC. The reason this is not a conclusive response is
that it is not prima facíe clear whether we could have a suitable application
of the IC where we ‘finish’ with an empirical set up that would satisfy the
requirements of the IC and contain the required structure, i.e. the structure
186
of the mathematics at the point in the derivation before we apply the limit.
6.3.2 CAM Approach
The CAM approach is a way of dealing with the slow convergence of the Mie
solution. The approach consists in transforming the Debye expansion of the
Mie solution from an infinite sum of real functions to an integral of complex
functions. The saddle points and Regge poles of these functions are then used
to gain information on how the scattered wave behaves: the saddle points
are related to reflected and refracted light and the Regge poles to surface
waves, waves of light that travel along the surface of the water droplet. Thus
the application of the CAM approach appears to be a standard introduction
of surplus structure at the immersion stage: we introduce the genuinely new
features of the complex plane in order to gain greater insight into the behaviour
of the real functions found in the Mie solution. This occurs due to the shift
from the infinite sum of real functions to the integral over complex functions,
i.e. due to the application of the Poisson sum formula:
∞∑l=0
ψ (Λ, r) =∞∑
m=−∞(−1)m
∞
∫0
ψ (Λ, r) e2imπΛ dΛ (6.3)
The Poisson sum formula is a Fourier transform. These are transformations
that allow us to represent a series (i.e. a sum) of discrete values as a continuum
(i.e. via an integral) and in doing so moves us to the complex plane. Fourier
transforms result in periodic functions, that is they include transformations
to functions that involve sine and cosine functions. The transformations are
due, in part, to the Euler formula, the relationship between the exponential
function and the trigonometric functions:
eiθ = cos θ + i sin θ (6.4)
187
This provides a chance to see whether any of the possible solutions might
be capable of solving the dilemma between the Very Large R3 Problem and
the Mathematical Restriction Problem. The situation above looks like it would
be suited to appealing to the ‘natural extension’ solution to the Mathematical
Restriction problem. First, there is the move to the complex plane, which
is the example I used to introduce the notion of natural extension. Second,
recognising that the Poisson sum formula is a Fourier transform and so in part
relies on the Euler formula, suggests that we need the Euler formula in the R3
component of the partial structure of the Debye expansion of the Mie solution.
This does not seem like an unlikely thing to include in the R3 component.
Much as one might argue that the structure of the complex plane should be
included in the R3 for any real function, Euler’s formula should be included in
the R3 for any trigonometric or exponential function; Euler’s formula displays a
relationship that is fundamental to a proper understanding of these functions.
The question remains over what else one would need to include in the R3.
For example, do we need further mathematical techniques to perform Fourier
transforms? A second question is also raised: how much mathematics should
be included in the derivation step? As I will outline below, solving the resulting
equations is not a straight forward matter. Due to the coalescing of the saddle
points, further mathematical techniques (the CFU method) are required to
provide a solution to the equations that can provide suitable physics for the
rainbow. These two questions can be summarised under the question of ‘what
are the family of structures we map into?’ Before answering this question, I
will detail how the surplus structure of the CAM approach is to be related back
to the Mie solution. At best this should involve identifying what interpretation
mapping we should adopt. At minimum it should identify which parts of the
mathematics of the CAM approach should be mapped back to the mathematics
of the Mie solution.
188
Interpreting the CAM Approach’s Solutions
The saddle points and Regge poles of the Debye expansion, extended into the
complex plane, are used to obtain the physics of the rainbow. The mathe-
matical details of how we obtain these critical points was set out in the last
chapter, in §5.4, and in the Appendix, in §A.5. The reason behind looking at
the transformations and the targeting of the critical points can be summarised
as follows. The transformation was employed to obtain a series that converged
quicker than the original Mie solution. This required that we adopt the Debye
expansion of the scattering amplitudes, from which we obtain the asymptotic
representation of each term by applying the Poisson sum formula to each term
and then making use of the ability to deform paths in the complex plane. This
results in a background integral, and allows us to “concentrate dominant con-
tributions to the integrals into the neighborhood of a small number of points
in the λ plane, [the] critical points. The main types of critical points are sad-
dle points, that can be real or complex, and complex poles such as the Regge
poles” (Nussenzveig 1992, pg. 62). As stated in §5.5, the interpretation of the
Regge-Debye poles and saddle points varies across the physics text books. The
Regge-Debye poles are consistently referred to as representing surface waves,
but the texts vary as to whether the surface waves are cashed out in terms
of actual waves or as rays taking short cuts along the surface of the droplets.
The saddle points are variously interpreted as points of stationary phase or
as rays. Points of stationary phase are also interpreted as rays (Nussenzveig
1992, pg. 62):
A real saddle point is also a stationary-phase point. Since the phase of
the integrand in most cases can be approximated by the WKB phase,
stationarity implies that the action principle (or Fermat’s principle) is
satisfied, so that such points will be associated with contributions from
classical paths (or geometric-optic rays)
189
As I understand the mathematics, and due to conversations with physi-
cists,29 I think that whether the IC is capable of interpreting the Regge-Debye
poles and saddle points in a way that is consistent with all that I have said
above depends on whether the models are under construction or being used.
This is because there appears to be different concepts required during the de-
velopment of the model compared to its use. Ray theoretic concepts seem
essential to the generation of the uniform CAM approach. Once we have con-
structed the model, some of its uses (explanation, prediction, etc.) can be
performed through interpreting the saddle points as points of stationary phase
and the Regge-Debye poles as actual surface waves. There is at least one
use that requires ray theoretic concepts, however: the process of teaching and
learning the model needs the ray theoretic concepts, or at least relies on them
heavily, as heuristic and pedagogical tools.
If it is the case that ray theoretic concepts are required to interpret the
mathematics of the CAM approach during model construction, this is prob-
lematic for the IC and the partial structures framework. One of the main
draws for adopting the partial structures version of the Semantic View is that
the partial structures framework is supposed to provide a unified way of han-
dling both model construction and model use. Showing that the construction
of the CAM model requires ray theoretic concepts but the use of the repre-
sentation does not require them threatens this unified approach. Bueno and
French outline the partial structures approach to model construction and the
way it relates to the IC as follows (Bueno & French 2012, pg. 88-89):
Using [the partial structures approach], we can provide a framework for
accommodating the application of mathematics to theory construction
in science. The main idea is that mathematics is applied by bringing
29I exchanged a series of emails with John Adams and James Lock, wherein I discussedthe appropriate interpretations of the Regge-Debye poles and saddle points, and the indis-pensability of ray theoretic concepts to these interpretations.
190
structure from a mathematical domain (say, functional analysis) into
a physical, but mathematized, domain (such as quantum mechanics).
What we have, thus, is a structural perspective, which involves the es-
tablishment of relations between structures in different domains. Cru-
cially, we typically have surplus structure at the mathematical level, so
only some structure is brought from mathematics to physics.
. . .
It is straightforward to accommodate this situation using partial struc-
tures. The partial homomorphism represents the situation in which
only some structure is brought from mathematics to physics (via the
R1- and R2-components, which represent our current information about
the relevant domain), although ‘more structure’ could be found at the
mathematical domain (via the R3-component, which is left open). More-
over, given the partiality of information, just part of the mathematical
structures is preserved, namely that part about which we have enough
information to match the empirical domain. These formal details can
then be deployed to underpin the [IC].
However, one can find comments else where in the literature on partial struc-
tures which threatens this straightforward understanding of how model con-
struction should be understood. In their (2012), Bueno and French claim that
the London-London example of superconductivity30 is a case of “model con-
struction” (Bueno & French 2011, pg. 862). In his (2000), French distinguishes
between horizontal and vertical relationships between theoretical models and
structures (French 2000, pg. 106):
[Partial isomorphisms capture] (i) the ‘horizontal’ inter-relationships be-
tween theories, thus providing a convenient framework for understanding
theory change and construction; and also (ii) the ‘vertical’ relationships
30This is a different example to the London account of superfluidity, though very closelyrelated.
191
between theoretical structures and data models, accommodating, in par-
ticular, the role of idealisations
In their (2011) and (2012) Bueno and French indicate that model construc-
tion occurs along the normal IC lines. We construct models by representing
empirical set ups mathematically, perform surrogative inferences in the math-
ematics to obtain new (partial) structures (and partial structural relations) in
the empirical set up, and so have a new model. Neither of these papers refers
to the distinction between the vertical and horizontal relationships between
models that French outlines in his (2000). I think it is ignoring this distinction
which has caused the problem. When discussing the four types of surplus struc-
ture in §6.2.3 I argued that the fourth type, that of accommodating Hesse’s
account of analogies, belonged to the SV rather than the IC. I also argued in
§6.2.1 that the IC does not strictly produce idealised representations of the
world, as the targets of the IC are the empirical set ups, which only become
representational vehicles themselves when used in scientific representations in
the context of the SV. I propose that we understand model creation as part
of the SV, along the horizontal axis (the accommodation of Hesse’s analogies
should also be placed here). One might be tempted to place the IC on the
vertical axis. I think, however, that it should in fact form its own third axis,
due to mathematics being involved in models on both axes. This allows the
IC to account for the mathematical representation that occurs in all parts of
the SV, while not falling prey to problems such as how to relate the empirical
set ups to the world at any one time (as this is done by the vertical axis).
If model construction occurs along the horizontal axis, then we are not
constrained by the strict requirements of the IC. The requirement to iterate
the IC during the CAM approach meant that the saddle points, in Model 2,
could only be related to the wave theoretic Model 1, which itself was mapped
to the empirical set up to gain a physical interpretation. i.e. The mathematics
192
in Model 1 was also uninterpreted mathematics (though we can describe this
as wave theoretic as it gains a wave interpretation through the mapping to
the empirical set up). As there was no ray theoretic model in this iteration,
we could not map the saddle points to rays, as we appear to need to do in
order to construct the model. If model creation occurs within the scope of
the SV’s use of partial structures on the horizontal axis, however, then we are
dealing exclusively with models, i.e. interpreted mathematics. In this case,
the requirement to map back through uninterpreted mathematical models is
dropped. This raises the possibility of having more freedom in our choice of
mappings between models and which models we use. For example, we could
map from a model with a wave theoretic interpretation, to a model that has
a ray theoretic interpretation, or from both to a third model which contains
both ray and wave theoretic interpreted components.
The obvious objection to this is that we will result in models that claim
inconsistent things about the world. There are numerous responses available
to inconsistent models, which Bueno and French survey in §5 of their (2011).
They advocate accepting that inconsistent models exist, but reject that they
are false because the inconsistent objects they putatively refer to do not exist.
Rather, they accept the representations to be partially-true. For example, the
object the Bohr model putatively refers to is held to not exist, though the
representation is regarded as partially-true, reflecting its success. The “central
inconsistency” in the model is claimed to be the stable stationary states (Bueno
& French 2011, pg. 867). One can consider two parts of the model that are
inconsistent, the dynamics of the electron in the stationary state and the tran-
sitions between these states, to be considered parts of “strong sub-theories”. At
least in the Bohr case, the inconsistent claim, the stable stationary states, can
be located in the R3 component, to represent statements which have yet to be
established whether they hold in the domain of investigation. If this approach
193
works for handling the use of inconsistent representations, hopefully it can be
adopted to handle the inconsistencies that arise during model creation.
There is a lot more work to pursue here: the notion of the IC being a
third axis requires further exploration, while the ability of the partial struc-
tures framework to accommodate inconsistent models is now a more significant
feature of the framework.
Which Families of Structures?
I suggested above that the only additional mathematics required for the CAM
approach when moving from the Mie solution was the mathematics required to
solve Fourier transformations, i.e. Euler’s equation and mathematics involved
in the extension into the complex plane. The mathematical steps involved
in the application of the CAM approach fall into those conducted within the
wave theoretic model and those conducted within the CAM model. If new
mathematical resources are required than are required to derive the Mie solu-
tion, then further mathematical structure will have to be introduced, and we
might be dealing with more than one case of surplus structure and hence with
more than one iteration of the IC. The most significant steps are: the Debye
expansion, the Poisson sum formula, the deformation of the contour integral to
obtain the Regge-Debye poles and saddle points, and finally the CFU method
to find the saddle point contributions around θ = θR. I will look at each of
these steps and detail whether any additional resources are required.
The Mie solution could be interpreted as involving standing waves within
the water droplet and transmitted plane waves outside of the water droplet.
The Debye expansion involves the transformation of the Mie solution which can
then be interpreted as involving spherically partially transmitted and reflected
waves. This involves expressing the scattering function in terms of spherical
transmission and reflection coefficients. These are expressed in terms of the
194
Henkel and Bessel functions. All of this work can be done within the Mie
model, which is also expressed in terms of Henkel and Bessel functions. No
extra resources are needed. The application of the Poisson sum formula and its
extension into the complex plane constitutes the (partial) mapping from the
wave model to the CAM model, and the introduction of the surplus structure
of the complex plane. The deformation of the contour integral, finding poles
and saddle points are all stand procedures in complex analysis. The resources
needed to conduct these moves should come with the move into the complex
plane.
The CFU method should be regarded as a part of the derivation step. Al-
though there is discussion of introducing “a mapping that preserves the saddle
point structure”, the move is a rather typical one: a change of variables can
hardly be considered to be introducing genuinely new mathematical resources,
and certainly not the introduction of a family of structures. Indeed, the CFU
method only transforms one equation that contains an inexact cubic to one
that contains an exact cubic.
This suggests that although the mathematics involved in the CAM ap-
proach is quite sophisticated, in terms of the families of structures required it
is a rather straight forward approach. We only need to move into the complex
plane and bring the standard tools required for solving and manipulating com-
plex functions: finding poles, constructing residue series and solving integrals
whose contributions come from critical points. This suggests that the Mathe-
matical Restriction Problem is likely to be solved in this instance through the
‘natural extension’ solution, as we need nothing beyond the typical mathemat-
ical structures that come with a move into the complex plane.
195
6.4 Conclusion
In this chapter, I have argued that the IC can accommodate the relationship
between faithfulness and usefulness by leveraging the notions of partial truth
and partial structure, adopting an analogous view to the extrinsic and intrin-
sic conception of theories offered by the proponents of the partial structures
version of the SV. I also argued that the structural resources used were the
same for the Galilean and singular limit idealisations, but that the notion of
surplus structure required some work to be accommodated within the IC. I
rejected the idea that singular limits necessarily lead to the adoption of sur-
plus structure. This was shown with the β →∞ idealisation used to obtain a
ray theoretic model of the rainbow. I argued that surplus structure could be
accommodated on the partial structure framework, however, doing so opened
up the account to a dilemma from the Very Large R3 Problem and the Math-
ematical Restriction Problem. I proposed several possible solutions to each
horn of this dilemma, the most promising of which is the ‘natural’ restriction
solution. This solution aims to restrict the R3 through including only the
mathematics in the R3 that could be considered a ‘natural’ extension in the
way that complex numbers could be considered a ‘natural’ extension of the
real numbers. The plausible, general success of this solution was outlined with
its success in restricting the R3 for the CAM approach. The most significant
further work that needs to be carried out is developing the idea of the IC as
being the third axis of the SV approach, where inter-theory relationships are
along the horizontal axis and the relationships between data, phenomena and
theoretical models are along the vertical axis.
I will now investigate what answers the PMA can provide to the questions
concerning the relationship between the faithfulness and usefulness of repre-
196
sentations.
197
7 | Pincock’s Mapping Account
and the Rainbow
7.1 Introduction
In this chapter I will turn my attention to Pincock’s Mapping Account of
representation, subjecting it to the same questions I posed to the IC: what
is the relationship between the faithfulness of an idealised representation and
the usefulness of such a representation?; and are the structural resources used
by the PMA to accommodate different types of idealisations are the same? I
will argue that a major problem with the PMA is an inability to establish a
general explanation for how usefulness and faithfulness are related. This is in
part due to Pincock’s approach to the content of representations and what he
believes we can infer from the content, and in part due to the position of ‘meta-
physical agnosticism’. This is a position he adopts in response to arguments
concerning emergentist and reductionist interpretations of singular perturba-
tion representations. The ‘metaphysical agnosticism’ position raises questions
over the generality of Pincock’s account and whether Pincock’s methodology
is compatible with Contessa’s approach towards faithful epistemic representa-
tion.
I will again make use of the two idealisation examples from the rainbow,
the β → ∞ singular limit and the move to the complex plane involved in the
198
CAM approach. Pincock discusses this example himself. He makes compar-
isons between the β → ∞ idealisation, the k → ∞ and his attitude towards
singular perturbations. I will argue that this comparison is not informative
with respect to metaphysical agnosticism. Pincock also contrasts his views
on the CAM approach to Belot’s and Batterman’s position on the rainbow.
I explore Pincock’s metaphysical attitude towards the CAM approach and
conclude that he does not hold a metaphysical agnosticism position towards
it. Rather, I suggest that he has adopted a kind of reductionist position to-
wards the critical points involved in the CAM approach. Pincock’s discussion
of Belot’s and Batterman’s positions is also unhelpful for understanding his
metaphysical agnosticism position. I conclude the chapter by arguing that
metaphysical agnosticism is either too undeveloped to hold as a serious posi-
tion or collapses into a form of reductionism.
7.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account and
Idealisation
Idealisation is, in general, dealt with very straightforwardly on Pincock’s ac-
count by his various notions of content, the flexibility in what structural re-
lations he admits, and the specification relation. Despite this ease of dealing
with idealisations in general, I will argue that Pincock’s approach threatens a
unified account of how faithfulness and usefulness are related on the PMA.
7.2.1 Account of Idealisation
The majority of idealisations will be accounted for by enriched contents, struc-
tural relations that involve mathematical terms and the specification relation.
How these are handled is best explained by Pincock himself, when he intro-
duces the enriched contents (Pincock 2012, pg. 31):
199
In the heat equation, we have to work with small regions in addition
to the points (x, t) picked out by our function. We should take these
regions in the (x, t) plane to represent genuine features of the temper-
ature changes in the iron bar. This representational option is open to
use even if the derivation and solution of the heat equation seem to
make reference to real-valued quantities and positions. We simply add
to our representation that we intend it to capture temperature changes
at a more coarse-grained level using regions of a certain size that are
centered on the points picked out by our function. The threshold can
be set using a variety of factors. These include our prior theory of
temperature, the steps in the derivation of the heat equation itself, or
our contextually determined purposes in adopting this representation to
represent this particular iron bar. [Pincock’s] approach is to incorporate
all of these various inputs into the specification of the enriched content.
The enriched content has a much better chance of being accurate as it
will typically be specified in terms of the aspects of the mathematical
structure, which can be more realistically interpreted in terms of genuine
features of the target system.
. . .
We arrive at the enriched content of a representation, then, by allowing
the content to be specified in terms of a structural relation with fea-
tures of the mathematical structure beyond the entities in the domain
of the mathematical structure. The resulting structural relations need
to be more complicated than just simple isomorphisms and homomor-
phisms. In particular, we allow the specification of the structural relation
to include mathematical terminology. For example, we may posit an iso-
morphism between the temperatures at times and u in the mathematical
structure subject to a spatial error term ε = 1mm.
More sophisticated idealisations will involve schematic contents. The ex-
ample of the deep water waves shows that not all cases of taking singular limits
200
involves a case of singular limit idealisation.1 Remember that a singular limit
idealisation has to necessarily involve the limit. The deep water wave case is
justified along Galilean lines, and as such the limit can be removed. Yet Pin-
cock argues that the deep water wave idealisation should not be understood as
the taking of a limit at all, but rather in terms of taking a set of scales. I shall
call this sort of idealisation perturbation idealisation. This itself can be split
into two types: regular and singular perturbation idealisation. Pincock argues
that at least some cases of singular limit idealisation should be understood in
terms of singular perturbation idealisation. In doing so, one can solve some of
the problems introduced by Batterman, namely those of interpreting the limit.
I will introduce the deep water wave example, first focusing on how it is justi-
fied in terms of a Galilean idealisation, then on how Pincock argues for it to be
understood as a regular perturbation idealisation. I will then summarise how
the notions of content and the specification relation are involved in a singular
perturbation idealisation. This will allow me to move onto a discussion of how
faithfulness and usefulness are related on Pincock’s account.
The deep water wave representation aims to find the speed of a wave crest.
This involves starting with the Navier-Stokes equation, applying the ‘small
amplitude’ idealisation, then the deep water wave idealisation to find a simple
representation in terms of the wavelength of the wave. When introduced as
a Galilean idealisation, the deep water wave idealisation involves taking the
variable for the depth of the ocean, H, to infinity. We take H to infinity
because we obtain a tanhx term, where x = 2πHλ , and as x → ∞, tanhx → 1.
Thus, when the depth of the ocean is much greater than the wavelength of the
waves, such as when H > 0.28λ, we can replace the tanhx term with 1 and
obtain a maximum error of 3%. Remember that on the PMA, the mathematics
has an interpretation. This would seem to imply that taking H →∞ involves
1See Pincock (2012) pg. 96-104 for the full details of Pincock’s analysis of this example.
201
the claim that the ocean is now infinitely deep. This is not the case, however
as taking the limit involves decoupling the interpretation from H, leaving us
with an unspecified parameter. Thus the representation can be described as
having nothing to say about the depth of the ocean after taking the limit.2
Decoupling interpretations also involves the specification relation changing (as
this supplies the interpretation). Justifying an idealisation through appealing
to a maximum error also implies the adoption of a structural relation which
includes such an error term. Thus the only difference between the simple cases
of idealisation mentioned above that involved the enriched content is the move
to schematic content and the lack of interpretation for the mathematics that
constitutes the schematic content.
The main motivation Pincock offers for understanding such an idealisation
(and singular limit idealisations) in terms of perturbation idealisations is that
we can replace the “vague notion of an approximately true claim with the claim
that for phenomena p some set of scales s is adequate” (Pincock 2012, pg. 103).
This is promising for getting a grip on the relationship between faithfulness and
usefulness, given that the IC cashes out approximate truth in terms of partial
truth. As I argued above, partial truth and the associated partial structures
are capable of providing an explanation of how faithfulness and usefulness
are related. To understand the deep water wave example in terms of a regular
perturbation, Pincock first introduces us to the notion of scales. Here a variable
is replaced by a ‘scaled’ version of it. For example, the x∗ variable (* denoting
an original variable) is replaced by x = x∗
λ . There is often a choice in the set
of scales, that is, which variables we choose to replace and which variable we
divide the original by. Our choice of x and λ constitutes the claim that the
“relevant processes operate in the x spatial direction only on the order of λ”.
The idea is that we are attempting to show that the contribution of certain
2The other interpretation of schematic content is that these are pieces of the mathematicswhich have no interpretation. See §4.2.2 - Pincock’s Notion of Content.
202
terms are negligible relative to other terms (preferably that non-linear terms
are negligible relative to linear terms, for ease of calculation). Notice that
our chosen replacement also results in x becoming dimensionless (it involves a
length variable divided by a length variable). The set of scales chosen for the
deep water wave example result in the claim that (Pincock 2012, pg. 103):
terms preceded by h become orders of magnitude more important, or
equivalently, that terms preceded by 1h =
λH become orders of magnitude
less important. When h appears in the boundary conditions, this has
the effect of moving the boundary as far from the system as possible.
Thus for this set of scales to be adequate, boundary effects must be
irrelevant to what we aim to represent
We establish whether a set of scales is adequate by seeing whether the set of
scales “reveals anything of relevance to p”, and then conducting “additional
tests . . . to see if the representation does indeed accurately capture” p. If it
does, then we have an adequate set of scales.
In summarising his discussion of why sets of scales (and by implication,
perturbations) are important, Pincock gives the clearest description of how he
thinks faithfulness and usefulness are related (Pincock 2012, pg. 104):
What we see, then, is a kind of trade-off between the completeness of a
representation and its ability to accurately represent some phenomena of
interest. . . . The problem is basically that a complete representation of a
complex system will include countless details, and these details typically
obscure what we have selected as the important features of the system.
By giving up completeness, and opting for a set of scales, we shift to a
partial representation of the system that aims to capture features that
are manifest in that scale. This partiality gains us a perspicuous and
accurate representation as well as an understanding of features that
would otherwise elude us.
203
The idea here seems to be that by adopting a particular set of scales we are
introducing some mathematical structure that partially represents the target
system and in doing so reveals certain features at that scale. Thus we will be
relating part of the target system to our mathematical structure. This will
involve the structural relation mapping from the mathematics to only part
of the target system, with the specification relation helping us to interpret
the mathematical structure appropriately for the scale we are using. i.e. That
parts of the mathematics should not be interpreted at this scale (are schematic
contents) in the way they would in a mathematical structure that is a complete
representation.
In order to make the notion of “adequate set of scales” more precise, Pin-
cock turns to perturbation theory.3 Our original problem involved finding an
unknown function f(x) that satisfies some differential equations and boundary
conditions. We change it by recasting f(x) as a function of f(x, ε), where ε
is a value that is small for the domain in question. We then aim to find an
asymptotic expansion of f(x, ε) to N terms, and use the magnitude of terms
over a certain order of the asymptotic expansion of the function to establish
which terms of the asymptotic expansion are to be kept and which are to be
rejected. This allows us to find an answer to any degree of accuracy. i.e. the ε2
term might be smaller than experimental accuracy, so all ε terms of the order
greater than 2 can be rejected.
A regular perturbation is one where we can start with ε = 0, and add
correction terms from the asymptotic expansion (i.e. where the order of ε >
0). A singular perturbation, however, occurs when there is a difference in
qualitative character between the ε = 0 and ε ≠ 0 cases. Pincock uses the
example of the equation εm2 + 2m+ 1 = 0. When ε = 0, this equation has roots
m = −12 , but when ε ≠ 0, the equation has two roots which cannot be recovered
3The details can be found in his (2012), pg. 104-105.
204
from the ε = 0 case (they are in fact undefined when ε = 0). In such a case,
we shift to singular perturbation theory and have to employ multiple scales.
What is nice about Pincock’s moves here is that he has given us a formal
framework within which to understand the difference between the limits in
Galilean idealisations, which can be removed, and those which produce singular
limits, such as in Batterman’s examples. If we can use regular perturbations,
then we have a Galilean limit, whereas if we have to singular perturbations,
we have singular idealisation type limits.
Singular perturbations result in a different story of how the mathemati-
cal structure, specification relation and structural relations meet. Whereas in
the regular perturbation case, one merely introduces some schematic content
(and hence that part of the mathematics is decoupled from its interpretation),
singular limits result in the need to give the resulting representations “a differ-
ent physical interpretation than the original representations . . . the singular
character of the limit can be linked to the need to offer an interpretation in
terms of different physical concepts” (Pincock 2012, pg. 223). I take this to
mean that a singular limit causes all of the content to become (momentarily)
schematic, before being given a new interpretation (i.e. a new specification re-
lation), though some schematic content will obviously stay schematic (such as
the term(s) involved in the singular limit/parameter that produces the singular
perturbations).
7.2.2 PMA, Faithfulness and Usefulness
The above discussion has made it clear that Galilean idealisation requires dif-
ferent structural moves to singular (perturbation) idealisation on Pincock’s
Mapping Account. This is the answer to the second question posed at the start
of this chapter.4 Due to these differences in structural moves, there might be
4Are the structural resources used by the PMA to accommodate different types of ide-alisations the same?
205
differences in how faithfulness and usefulness are related in each case. I will
look first at Galilean idealisation, and then at what Pincock says about inter-
preting three examples of singular perturbations: the boundary layer theory, a
damped harmonic oscillator, and Bénard cells. Pincock advocates adopting a
position of metaphysical agnosticism towards the damped harmonic oscillator
and Bénard cells. I will explore what this position entails for the relationship
between faithfulness and usefulness on the PMA.
The matter is straightforward for Galilean idealisation. Such an idealisation
is partially faithful due to the structural similarity between the enriched (and
genuine) contents and the target, cashed out by the (mathematically infused)
structural relation. The usefulness is then accounted for by the specification
relation and how this alters the structural relation. Remember that Pincock
wants to include such factors as what we intend our representation to capture
(i.e. temperature at a coarse-grained level), contextual determined purposes
of adopting a particular representation, and so on, into the specification of
the enriched content, i.e. the specification relation (Pincock 2012, pg. 30-
31).5 Being reductive, we can describe Galilean idealisations as being useful
on the PMA because we design them to be: either we adopt the appropriate
contents for our theoretical concepts we are trying to represent (e.g. enriched
contents and temperature), or due to the mathematics we wish to use, and
adopt a suitable structural relation for these purposes (a structural relation
that contains something similar to an error term that allows for more useful
representations to be given). The general idea is to obtain a structure that
highlights relevant features.
The relationship between faithfulness and usefulness is much more com-
plicated in the case of singular perturbation idealisations.6 The most obvious
5See my discussion of this in §4.2.2 - Pincock’s Notion of Content and of the specificationrelation in §4.2.2 - Pincock’s Structural Relations and Specification Relation.
6While Pincock claims that the “vague” notion of approximate truth can be made moreprecise by the notion of an adequate set of scales, I reject this as being useful for the notion
206
complicating factor is that these representations are likely to have a high quan-
tity of schematic content. While this might seem like it would make things
easier (as there would be less interpreted content that could be described as
faithful), this is not the case as we also have the recoupling of some of this
content in terms of different physical concepts than those involved in the initial
representation.
Boundary Layer Theory
One of the key techniques involved in fluid dynamics is the boundary layer
theory.7 Here, the flow of a fluid around an object is analysed. One wishes
to find out how the pressure and velocity values for the fluid are arranged
around the object. To do so one can either adopt the Navier-Stokes equations
(though these turn out to be intractable for this problem) or the Euler equa-
tions and adopt a set of scales. Unfortunately, the second option results in the
prediction of zero drag on the object, which can be shown to be false through
simple experiment (Pincock 2012, pg. 108-109). The cause of this problem is
the assumption that the set of scales is adequate for the whole domain. By
splitting the domain into two and adopting a sets of scales for each region
of the domain, we can find a solution by matching the sets of scales at the
boundaries of the regions. The region which is closest to the object is called
the boundary layer, and its set of scales is picked using a new quantity δ,
which is described as the width of the boundary layer (Pincock 2012, pg. 110).
This representation is very successful. Yet, although “the edge between the
boundary layer and the outer region is fundamental to the representation, . . .
we do not take it to represent any genuine edge in the system itself”, and there
are in fact several inconsistent ways of establishing the value of δ (Pincock
of faithfulness. The way in which Pincock cashes out the notion of adequacy is binary, ratherthan gradable.
7See §5.6 of Pincock’s (2012) for his presentation and discussion of the boundary layertheory. He relies on Kundu & Cohen (2008), §10 for his presentation.
207
2012, pg. 112), (Kundu & Cohen 2008, pg. 346-348). This prompts Pincock
to claim that there is no warrant for a metaphysical interpretation of the edge
between regions (i.e. that there are two regions in any physical sense). He
also promises that he will go on to argue that “we have no general reason to
conclude that the accuracy of [singular perturbation idealisations reveal] new
underlying metaphysical structure” (Pincock 2012, pg. 113). Thus the lesson
we should take from the boundary layer example is that singular perturbations
can produce mathematics of purely instrumental benefit: they allow us to ob-
tain an accurate result but with no new physical structure being uncovered.
This would suggest that the link between faithfulness and success is broken
here, in that the content of the representation is wholly schematic.
One might wonder how we are to get accurate results out of a representa-
tion which contains wholly schematic content. The answer to this is to recall
Pincock’s distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic mathematics, core con-
cepts, and that we move from schematic content to genuine content in the
process of producing a prediction. In order to obtain a prediction from a rep-
resentation with schematic content, we must specify parameters according to
the target system and in doing so we move from schematic content to genuine
content (Pincock 2012, pg. 32). The solutions to equations are not always part
of the content of our representations (Pincock 2012, pg. 38). In this instance
I must conclude that there is no link between the faithfulness of a represen-
tation and its usefulness. It is tempting to call such representations entirely
unfaithful: if the content of the representation is wholly schematic, then it
can be understood as saying nothing about the target system. In such an in-
stance, the mathematics could be argued to not even constitute an epistemic
representation as it would no longer be interpreted in terms of the target. The
mathematics would still be taken to be denoting the target. The adoption of
genuine content might solve this problem, providing an interpretation of the
208
mathematics in terms of the target again. However, there does not appear to
be any link between the representation with genuine content and the target
that could satisfy the requirements of answering how the partially faithfulness
of the representation and its usefulness is related. The representation is useful
due to the schematic content being made into genuine content through the
filling in of specific parameters.8
The next two examples, the damped harmonic oscillator and the Bénard
cells, are two examples of a different type of singular perturbation. The bound-
ary layer theory involves splitting the domain into two parts, with a set of scales
for each region. In the damped harmonic oscillator and Bénard cells exam-
ples the domain remains the same, but a different set of scales is adopted for
different time periods.
Damped Harmonic Oscillators
For the damped harmonic oscillator, we start with the following equation:
my′′ + cy′ + ky = 0 (7.1)
If we assume that the damping effects are small compared to the dominant
process, we might adopt a set of scales such as:
t = t∗√mk
(7.2)
However, as time increases, this set of scales fails (Pincock 2012, pg. 115). Thus
we should conclude that “we cannot assume there is a single process operating
on a single time scale”, and think of the y as a function of two variables tF = t
and tS = εt. When ε << 1, tS << tF so tS “corresponds to a ‘slow’ time scale”.
The damped harmonic oscillator example is used by McGivern (2008), who8The worries here not unique to Pincock’s account: similar concerns will arise on any
account for any instrumental representation.
209
argues in favour of a physical notion of emergence against ‘micro-based physi-
calism’.9 In general, McGivern argues that the multi-scale analysis present in
the damped harmonic oscillator involves properties that do not fit into Kim’s10
conception of reduction (McGivern 2008, pg. 54). Kim’s conception involves
identifying all higher-level properties with distinct micro-based properties,
understood as mereological configurations of lower-level micro-constituents.11
McGivern’s position can be summarised as the claim that multiscale analysis
“often involves decomposing a system’s behavior into components operating
on different scales” as opposed to “explaining a system’s behavior by relating
it to the behavior of its micro-constituents” i.e. physical, mereological decom-
position.
The multi-scale structure outlined above in the damped harmonic oscillator
is a high-level structure. McGivern sets out the approach a micro-physical
reductionist should take towards this property (McGivern 2008, pg. 64):
To accommodate the kind of multi-scale structure found in multi-scale
analysis within the standard framework of ‘micro-based’ levels, we would
need to show how multi-scale structural properties can be identified with
distinct micro-based properties and then cashed out in terms of ‘specific
9McGivern does not actually argue that reductionism is false, but that arguments for itmust be given “in terms specific to the properties, explanations, and theories involved, ratherthan in the broad terms characteristic of arguments about causal competition” (McGivern2008, pg. 55). One might read the position McGivern adopts here as similar to the onePincock advocates, that we “should use multiscale representations to help reform and sharpenthe metaphysical positions, rather than using them to champion one or the other side”. Iwill look at this briefly below, when considering if Pincock adopts a “wait and see” agnosticposition.
10See Kim (1998, 2003).11As McGivern explains it, Kim’s account starts by characterising the property to be
reduced “in terms of its ‘functional’ or causal role and then identifying that property withwhatever property fills that role on a given occasion. Importantly, these properties areassumed in general to be ‘micro-based’ properties, where a micro-based property is theproperty of having particular parts which themselves have particular properties and standin certain relations” (McGivern 2008, pg. 58). For example, ‘being a water molecule’ is ‘theproperty of having two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom in such-and-such bondingrelationship’. Causation need not only occur at the micro-level however. ‘Being a watermolecule’ is a higher-level property of a higher-level entity, i.e. a molecule. Thus we canhave causation at higher-levels, between higher-level entities. Kim also carries out thisreduction for structural properties (Kim 1998, pg. 117-118).
210
mereological configurations’ of micro-level entities and their properties.
If one were to explain the structure of an organism in this way, one would
identify the structure of the organism with its cellular structure, then this
structure with its component parts and so on until one reaches the genuinely
micro-based properties. And now McGivern comes to the crux of the issue
(McGivern 2008, pg. 64-65, my emphasis):
In “structural” terms, we can informally characterize this as “the property
of having parts S and F ” where S is the slow scale component and F is
the fast scale component. However, unlike in more familiar cases, such
as those involving cellular structure, the decomposition into fast and
slow components doesn’t give us spatial parts-instead, the decomposition
is of a different “non-spatial” sort. Hence it’s difficult to see how these
could be properties of “non-overlapping” parts, as in the case of micro-
based properties. . . . But in the case of decomposition into fast and slow
components, it is the same particles at the micro-level that realize both
the fast and the slow components: there is no division of the system into
“fast” and “slow” particles. Hence we can’t identify the slow component
with one configuration of micro-level entities and the fast component
with another, even if “configuration” is conceived of dynamically to allow
for the fact that we are dealing the behavior of a system over time. So
we appear to have a kind of structural property that doesn’t fit with the
standard micro-based account of reductive levels, understood in terms
of entities related by (“spatial”) parthood and characterized exclusively
by micro-based properties.
And again later in the paper (McGivern 2008, pg. 70):
But multi-scale structural properties aren’t [spatial]: they don’t involve
a move from the relatively large to the relatively small. Hence, the kind
of thinking that usually motivates the belief that macro-level properties
211
can be identified with micro-based ones - the repeated explanation of
phenomena in terms of smaller and smaller entities - doesn’t get off the
ground in the case of multi-scale structure.
Thus we can see how one might understand multiscale representations as not
being capable of being reduced to micro-level properties, at least according to
Kim’s account. McGivern’s arguments are not a complete rejection of reduc-
tion however. He emphasises that he hasn’t tried to argue against reductionism
in philosophy of mind (McGivern 2008, pg. 73). Rather his point is that “it
seems wrong to begin with an assumed structure of ‘levels’ and then try to
fit our theories and explanations to that structure: instead, we need to begin
with our theories and explanations and see what sort of structure they imply”,
that is, we should start with our physical theories and attempt to read our
metaphysical views on structures and levels from those theories (McGivern
2008, pg. 74).
Bénard Cells
Bénard cells are used as an example by Bishop (2008) to argue in favour of
“downward causation”, against Kim’s physical reductionism. Bénard cells are
a stable configuration of a heated liquid. A liquid is sandwiched between two
plates. The bottom plate is heated while the top plate is kept at a constant
temperature. If the temperature gradient between the top and bottom plates
is large enough, then the relevant dynamics of the fluid system shifts from the
diffusion process, which occurs over a short time scale, to the faster convective
process (Bishop 2008, pg. 236) (Pincock 2012, pg. 116). The diffusion pro-
cess results in small scale effects, while the convective process results in large
scale effects. The stability of the diffusion process is broken during the heat-
ing process, though stability is regained with the Bénard cells. The cells are
“large-scale features of the fluid system that influence how the small-scale fluid
212
elements move”. The idea here is that we need two scales, one for the diffusion
process and one for the Bénard cells. The size of the parameter we choose in
establishing these scales informs us as to which set of scales dominates. The
Reynolds number is adopted as the parameter; when it is small the diffusion
process dominates, when it is large the cells dominate.
Bishop adopts a view of emergence that includes a notion of downward cau-
sation put forward by Thompson and Varela (Bishop 2008, pg. 230), quoting
(Thompson & Varela 2001, pg. 420):
(TV) A network, N , of interrelated components exhibits an emergent
process, E, with emergent properties, P , if and only if:
(a) E is a global process that instantiates P and arises from the non-
linear dynamics, D, of the local interactions of N ’s components
(b) E and P have global-to-local (‘downward’) determinative influence
on the dynamics D of the components of N
And (possibly):
(c) E and P are not exhaustively determined by the intrinsic proper-
ties of the components ofN , that is, they exhibit ‘relational holism’
This proposal includes the claim that a property emerges not just qua property,
but is instantiated in a process or some other “dynamical ‘entity’ unfolding in
time”.
Bishop goes on to argue that Bénard cells display features indicative of
emergent behaviour. More generally, he argues that nonlinear systems require
some kind of “particular global or nonlocal description”, as the “individual
constituents cannot be fully characterized without reference to larger-scale
structures of the system”, due to the principle of linear composition failing
(Bishop 2008, pg. 231). In particular, he claims that Bénard cells exhibit the
behaviours of control hierarchies and constraints (Bishop 2008, pg. 237):
213
The Rayleigh-Bénard system clearly exhibits the features listed in Sect.
2.2 [(Bishop 2008, pg. 232)]. As ∆T exceeds ∆Tc, the homogeneity of
the distribution of the fluid elements and some of the spatial symme-
tries of the container are broken and the fluid elements self-organize
into distinguishable Bénard cells. There is a hierarchy distinguished
by dynamical time scales (molecules, fluid elements, Bénard cells) with
complex interactions taking place among the different levels. Fluid el-
ements are situated in that they participate in particular Bénard cells
within the confines of the container walls. The system as a whole dis-
plays integrity as the constituents of various hierarchic levels exhibit
highly coordinated, cohesive behavior. Additionally, the organizational
unity of the system is stable to small perturbations in temperature and
adapts to larger changes within a particular range.
Furthermore, Bénard cells act as a control hierarchy, constraining the
motion of fluid elements. Bénard cells emerge out of the motion of fluid
elements as ∆T exceeds ∆Tc, but these large-scale structures determine
modifications of the configurational degrees of freedom of fluid elements
such that some motions possible in the equilibrium state are no longer
available.
Bishop argues that the fluid elements are necessary but insufficient to ac-
count for the existence and dynamics of the Bénard cells, or even their own
motions. The local dynamics are constrained by the large-scale structures.
Together the fluid elements, Bénard cells and the system wide forces form the
necessary and sufficient conditions for the behaviour of the system (Bishop
2008, pg. 239). Thus he claims thats that Bénard cells satisfy (a), (b) and (c)
of the TV proposal of downward causation (Bishop 2008, pg. 240):
Bénard cells arise from the dynamics of fluid elements in the Rayleigh-
Bénard system as ∆T exceeds ∆Tc, where each fluid element becomes
214
coupled with every other fluid element (element (a) of TV). More impor-
tantly, Bénard cells act as a control hierarchy, constraining and modify-
ing the trajectories of fluid elements; that is, Bénard cells have a “deter-
minative influence” on the dynamics of the fluid elements as lower-level
system components (element (b) of TV). Moreover, although the fluid
elements are necessary for the existence of Bénard cells, the former are
insufficient to totally determine the behavior of the latter. This relation-
ship between necessary and sufficient conditions seems implicit in (b),
but due to its importance in issues surrounding reduction and emer-
gence, this relationship should be brought out explicitly (e.g., Bishop
(2006); Bishop & Atmanspacher (2006)).
This relationship is a nonquantum kind of “relational holism””understood
in Teller’s (1986) sense, where, the relations among constituents are not
determined solely by the constituents’ intrinsic properties. The proper-
ties of integrity, integration and stability exhibited by Bénard cells are
relationally dynamic properties involving the nonlocal relation of all fluid
elements to each other (element (c) of TV). . . . However, the behavior
of Bénard cells as units differs from holistic entanglement in quantum
mechanics in the sense that fluid elements may be distinguished from
each other while they are simultaneously identified as members of par-
ticular Bénard cells and participate in interaction with fluid elements
throughout the system.
The key difference between the boundary layer example and the damped har-
monic oscillator and Bénard cells examples is that we are not spatially dividing
the domain, but claiming that there are two processes operating at different
time scales.
215
Metaphysical Agnosticism
Bishop and McGivern appear to have presented good arguments which indi-
cate that we should reject reductionism (at least the sort offered by Kim’s
account) for systems that can be represented through temporal multiscale rep-
resentations. Bishop takes a rejection of reductionism for the Bénard cells to
justify a rejection of reductionism completely. McGivern thinks that we are
only justified in rejecting reductionism for temporal multiscale representations
and is open to adopting reductionism in other systems. One’s response to these
arguments will depend on whether one considers there be other options avail-
able. Pincock argues that we do have another option, namely his ‘metaphysical
agnosticism’ (Pincock 2012, pg. 119).
Pincock claims that his metaphysical agnosticism is a third way between
adopting a “metaphysical interpretation”, i.e. reductionism or emergentism,
and what he calls “instrumentalism”. That is, he offers a third table entirely
with reductionism and emergentism the options on the metaphysical table,
instrumentalism a second table and his “metaphysical agnosticism” the third
table. Metaphysical agnosticism involves (Pincock 2012, pg. 119-120 (my em-
phasis throughout)):
emphasiz[ing] the epistemic benefits that multiscale representation af-
fords the scientist. On this picture, a successful multiscale representation
depends on genuine features of the system. We come to know about these
features when a multiscale representation yields a successful experimental
prediction. In this respect, it goes beyond the instrumentalist position.
But it does not end up with a reductionist or emergentist metaphysical
interpretation because the epistemic approach is consistent with a re-
jection of both reductivism and emergentism. To see why, consider the
Bénard cells. . . . [The] epistemic point about what we know based on
our limited access to the details of the fluid dynamics need not entail
216
any metaphysical conclusions about the existence of the Bénard cells in
some more robust sense. Clearly, we can only understand the system
by appeal to these larger-scale structures. But this may be a product
of our ignorance and in the end may not correspond to what a fuller
understanding of the system would reveal. . . . More generally [Pincock]
suggest[s] that we cannot move from the success of a multiscale represen-
tation to the conclusion that it reveal novel metaphysical features of the
physical system. This metaphysical agnosticism is consistent with delin-
eating a crucial epistemic role for the multiscale techniques in producing
scientific knowledge.
I take Pincock to be arguing that we can conclude some novel physical fea-
tures of a system from successful multiscale representations (first emphasis),
but that we cannot (in general) use such representations to make novel meta-
physical claims (second emphasis). Such a position would require some of the
content of the representation to be given a new physical interpretation. This
would be a limited interpretation as we would be unable to infer anything
metaphysically novel about the target system from this interpretation, e.g.
whether this feature is due to emergence. Thus we have a case where singular
perturbation theory results in a representation that is not purely schematic
content, as both of our sets of scales have physical interpretations, though
they are limited in the sense just described. This would involve a limited
specification relation and an appropriately restricted structural relation.
There are some major differences between the boundary layer theory, and
the damped harmonic oscillator and Bénard cells, the most important of which
is whether the multiple sets of scales represent genuine features of the target
system. In the boundary layer theory, the reasons for doubting the reality
of the layer are that there are inconsistent methods for setting its width and
(Pincock implies) that the scales are due to a physical, i.e. spatial, split of
the domain. Whereas in the other two examples, the two sets of scales are
217
thought to represent two genuine processes due to the accurate predictions
they give (and possibly as they involve a difference in time, rather than spatial
scale). As quoted above, Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism commits us to a
genuine feature of the target system “when a multiscale representation yields a
successful experimental prediction”. The boundary layer theory, however, gave
very good predictions, yet Pincock states that “we have no general reason to
conclude that the accuracy of these [multiscale] representations reveals any new
underlying metaphysical structure” (Pincock 2012, pg. 113). If we accept that
one can maintain a distinction between a genuine feature of the system and an
“underlying metaphysical structure”, then I think that Pincock’s metaphysical
agnosticism involves an explanatory gap that threatens his account’s ability to
explain how faithfulness and usefulness are related. Accepting for the sake of
argument that we can admit a genuine feature of the system while having its
metaphysical qua reductionist or emergentist origins being unknown, there is
still the question of how the structure of this genuine feature identified by the
representation is related to the structure of the target system (the metaphysical
origin being one way of establishing this relationship). Establishing how the
structure of the genuine feature identified by the representation is related to
the target system will provide the explanation of how the representation can
be as partially faithful as it is, and yet still be useful.
The problem here is that I do not think Pincock’s arguments against either
what he calls the “instrumentalism” view of the mathematics or against the
metaphysical line are at all convincing. Further, I do not see how, prima
facíe, his position is clearly distinguished from Batterman’s. I will now outline
the problems I have with Pincock’s arguments against the instrumentalist and
metaphysical positions. I will discuss the relationship between Pincock’s and
Batterman’s positions in §7.3.2 - Pincock, Batterman & Belot.
Pincock describes instrumentalism about the mathematics as the following
218
attitude (Pincock 2012, pg. 119):
[R]escaling with multiple scales is just a tool that allows us to handle
otherwise intractable mathematical equations. We have learned how to
work with this tool, but it need not reveal anything about the underly-
ing features of the systems represented. Multiscale modelling, then, is
just a piece of brute force mathematics whose larger significance can be
ignored.
This view is similar to one way in which surplus structure can be used: we
adopt some further mathematics to shed light on some intractable problem
from our initial representation of the target system. However it is not entirely
the same, as in some cases the use of surplus structure can indirectly reveal
underlying features of the systems being represented, such as group theory
highlighting the role of symmetry in quantum mechanics.12 The instrumen-
talist position justifies the use of the mathematics pragmatically, by providing
a way to solve otherwise intractable mathematics. There is no question over
the faithfulness of the mathematics, as it is not representing anything on the
instrumentalist view. The surplus structure view has already been accounted
for, during the discussion of the IC.
Pincock rejects the instrumentalist position by claiming that “successful
multiscale representation depends on genuine features of the system”, and that
“we come to know about these features when a multiscale representation yields
a successful experimental prediction”. His rejection of instrumentalism is tied
to his commitment to his metaphysical agnosticism, as he rejects the dichotomy
between the instrumentalist and metaphysical (reductionism and emergentism)
positions. But merely pointing to accurate prediction is insufficient here, as
instrumental uses of mathematics can produce accurate predictions. In order12I argue below in §7.3.2 - Pincock, Batterman & Belot that Pincock has conflated the
instrumentalist and surplus structure positions, given what he says about Belot’s and Red-head’s response to the rainbow.
219
to reject the instrumentalist position and the dichotomy between it and the
metaphysical positions, there must be more work done to establish how multi-
scale representations can depend upon genuine features in a way which these
two broad positions cannot account for.
Perhaps we are to consider the metaphysical agnosticism as a ‘wait and
see’ type of agnosticism. This understanding of the agnosticism has some
textual support.13 But this would not constitute a real rejection of both the
instrumentalist and metaphysical positions. McGivern’s position is prima facíe
the same as Pincock’s. McGivern claims that arguments for reduction should
properly be given in terms that are “specific to the properties, explanations, and
theories involved, rather than in the broad terms characteristic of arguments
about causal competition” (McGivern 2008, pg. 55). He also claims that “it
seems wrong to begin with an assumed structure of ‘levels’ and then try to
fit our theories and explanations to that structure: instead, we need to begin
with our theories and explanations and see what sort of structure they imply”
(McGivern 2008, pg. 74, my emphasis). He doesn’t reject reductionism in toto,
just a version of reductionism that requires spatial decomposition for systems
that require (time) multiscale representation. One can therefore understand
McGivern as being open to the possibility of reductionism in other systems,
and Pincock recognises this (Pincock 2012, pg. 117). McGivern’s position
towards reductionism therefore is a “wait and see” position, asking for further
developments in the reductionist position to occur. If they do not occur, or are
shown to be incapable of occurring, then we are entitled to rule it out as a viable
option. Pincock rejects McGivern’s position, however, taking McGivern to
draw metaphysical conclusions when he endorses emergentism, apparently due
13Pincock talks of the understanding of the system being dependent upon the large-scalefeatures (of the Bénard cells) being a possible result of our ignorance “and in the end maynot correspond to what a fuller understanding of the system would reveal”. He also claimsthat “[e]ither metaphysical position seems premature, even if we can reform these views toaccommodate this kind of case” (Pincock 2012, pg. 119).
220
to understanding McGivern as arguing for the existence of emergent properties
due to the genuine causal and explanatory power they are attributed14 (Pincock
2012, pg. 117-119). The distinction between Pincock and McGivern, then, is
that Pincock rejects reductionism and emergentism in toto, whereas McGivern
thinks that they are still viable positions. Thus Pincock’s agnosticism cannot
include any sort of “wait and see”, contra McGivern’s position. Further, any
inclusion of a “wait and see” attitude in his agnosticism would contradict his
more general point that we cannot move from the success of these multiscale
representations to novel metaphysical features.15
Given the above arguments, I do not see how Pincock can provide can pro-
vide an explanation of how a multiscale representation is partially faithful and
useful. His metaphysical agnosticism position appears to prevent any suitable
structural relationship being established between the target system and the
content of the representation. This is a major problem. It appears that, for
the damped harmonic oscillator and Bénard cell examples at least, Pincock’s
account reduces to the claim that representations are useful because they are
successful, and because they are successful they are partially (in a limited
sense) faithful. But the metaphysical agnosticism blocks (metaphysical) ex-
planations for why they are faithful, so the only explanation for why they are
useful is because they are successful (which is no explanation at all as this is
clearly circular). A possible solution to this problem is that the general point
Pincock is trying to make, that the success of multiscale representations does
not ensure we can gain novel metaphysical features from them, is more of a
guide than a hard and fast rule. That is, in some cases we can gain novel meta-
physical features, in some cases we have to wait, and in some cases they are
explicitly denied. This would mean that the relationship between faithfulness
14Pincock refers to McGivern’s mentioning of fast scale gravity waves and slow-scaleRossby waves (McGivern 2008, pg. 70).
15Including a “wait and see” attitude would imply that we could move to novel metaphys-ical features, we would just have to wait.
221
and usefulness will depend on the example at hand; that there is no general
relationship between these two features when multiscale representations are
involved. If this is the case, and this point generalises to any representation,
then Pincock’s account is not so much a unified framework but rather a set of
tools to be adopted and adapted to each case study. He would in fact have
adopted a different methodological approach to Contessa and the proponents
of the IC, where one has a unified framework and attempt to show how exam-
ples fit in with it. This will shift the debate from whether the IC or the PMA
provides the best account of faithful epistemic representation, to whether the
methodological approach of the IC or the PMA is best for accommodating the
ideas behind faithful epistemic representation.
Before switching to this discussion of methodologies, there is one final op-
tion for understanding Pincock in a way that might be compatible with the
unified framework view. This is to understand Pincock as adopting a simi-
lar position as Batterman, that such representations establish a new level of
description of the system. When Pincock discusses the rainbow, he offers up
his account as an alternative, though, similar view to Batterman (Pincock
2012, §11.6). Thus the rainbow can be used to analyse Pincock’s views. In
particular, the β → ∞ idealisation is described to have similar interpretative
challenges as the boundary layer theory, and the CAM approach is at the heart
of the discussion of how similar Pincock’s view is to Batterman.
7.3 The PMA Applied to the Rainbow
7.3.1 β →∞
Pincock advocates the taking of the β → ∞ idealisation over the k → ∞ (or
λ → 0) idealisation due to a desire to provide what he considers the “best”
explanation of the colour distribution of the rainbow available from a ray
222
representation (Pincock 2012, pg. 226):
[T]he best explanation of [the colour distribution] takes light to be made
up of electromagnetic waves. This is the best way to make sense of the
colors of light and how the colors come to arrange themselves in the
characteristic pattern displayed by the rainbow . . . Without some rela-
tionship to our wave representation of light, [the ray theoretic] account
of [the rainbow angle] seems to float free of anything we should take
seriously. This point raises an instance of the central question of this
chapter: how can we combine the resources of the clearly incorrect ray
representation with the correct wave representation to provide our best
explanations of features of the rainbow?
The β →∞ and k →∞ idealisations are possible ways of relating the ray and
wave representations. I have already established in §6.3.1 that the β → ∞
idealisation involves a singular limit. I will now look at whether this limit can
be understood in terms of singular perturbation. I will outline claims in favour
of and against understanding the β →∞ idealisation as involving singular per-
turbation and conclude that the β →∞ idealisation does not involve singular
perturbation. I will then argue that this idealisation, and comments Pincock
makes in comparison to the k →∞ idealisation and boundary layer theory, call
into question Pincock’s general approach to interpreting idealisations. At this
stage, it is only a worry. The CAM approach will then be addressed to see
whether it can provide more information on Pincock’s metaphysical agnosti-
cism and its relationship to Batterman’s position.
The most obvious reason that one might think the β → ∞ idealisation
makes use of multiple sets of scales or singular perturbation theory is that the
approach is justified in the same way as scales are. Pincock claims that the
ray representation that results from the β →∞ idealisation “need not require
the assumption that light is a ray. It may assume only that in certain cir-
223
cumstances some features of light can be accurately represented using the ray
representation” and that it “can be reliably used if there is a size of raindrop
above which the wave-theoretic aspects of light are not relevant to the path
of the light through the drop” (Pincock 2012, pg. 226, 227). Compare this to
the first discussion of scales for the deep water waves example: there the claim
is that “terms preceded by h become orders of magnitude more important” or
“terms preceded by 1h = λ
H become orders of magnitude less important” (Pin-
cock 2012, pg. 103). In both examples, the the justification of taking β → ∞
idealisation appears to be the same as in the deep water case: a dimensionless
parameter is taken to such a size that other terms do not contribute to the
solution compared to those preceded by the parameter or vice versa.
Secondly, Pincock compares the k → ∞ idealisation with the application
of singular perturbation in the boundary layer theory example, and draws a
lesson from the comparison (Pincock 2012, pg. 227):
we need to pay attention to both the mathematical links between the two
representations and their proper physical interpretation. Some mathe-
matical links preclude any viable interpretation. This fits with the way
singular perturbation theory was used to develop the boundary layer
theory representation in chapter 5 [see §7.2.2 - PMA, Faithfulness and
Usefulness above]. There we saw that the width of the boundary layer
posed an interpretive challenge based on its central place in the repre-
sentation.
I think a fair inference to draw here is that the limit involved in the β → ∞
idealisation is one of these particular mathematical links that requires us to
pay attention to the mathematics and the interpretations, possibly preventing
a viable interpretation. That is, the limit is one that involves singular per-
turbation, and due to being a physical scale, as in the boundary layer case, it
might require careful physical interpretation or even preclude physical inter-
224
pretation. However, precluding a physical interpretation would be odd, as that
is clearly the problem with the k → ∞ idealisation. Thus, one might expect
the β → ∞ idealisation to provide a challenge to being interpreted physical,
but a challenge that should be able to be met.
The claims against the β →∞ idealisation involving singular perturbation
are far stronger than the two claims above. First, the size parameter, β, is
not introduced as a scale parameter, but rather as a standard abbreviating
substitution (replacing several terms with one term). For example, look to
the derivation of the Mie solution in Grandy Jr (2005). The Mie solution is
derived for a homogeneous dielectric sphere, during which equations represent
internal and external electric fields, such as the following equation, (3.83a) in
(Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 86):
Πext1 = icos(φ)
kN0
∞∑l=1
εlalh(1)l (N0kr)P 1
l (cos θ) (7.3)
β is then defined as follows:
β ≡ N0ka = N02πa
λ0
(7.4)
where r = a for the boundary of the water drop. In order to be introduced as a
scale parameter, a suitable variable is supposed to be multiplied or divided by
either k or a, and this clearly has not happened. Second, if the size parameter
were to involve singular perturbation then one would expect there to be some
discussion of the use of perturbation theory in the physics texts. This is not
the case; in fact there is no mention of perturbations in any of the relevant
sections of the physics texts I have used.16
16Perturbation theory is mentioned in the following books in the following contexts, allof which are not relevant to obtaining the ray representation from the Mie solution via theβ → ∞ idealisation: Grandy Jr (2005): inhomogenity (pg. 274) or distorted (i.e. non-spherical) spheres (pg. 297); Liou (2002) contains nothing in the relevant chapter (chapter5); Adam (2002) refers to the topology of caustics being stable under perturbations beingrelevant to rainbows; and Nussenzveig (1992) also discusses perturbations in the context of
225
Third, the β → ∞ idealisation does not result in any features indicative
of singular perturbations. Above I argued that Pincock claimed singular per-
turbations grant us access to novel physical features of systems, but not novel
metaphysical features. The only thing we get out of the β →∞ idealisation is
the claim that we can treat the direction of propagation of the waves as acting
like rays. This is hardly a novel feature, we have used ray optics to describe
the direction light travels for centuries before the Mie solution was obtained.
I therefore conclude that the β → ∞ idealisation does not involve a limit
that can be dealt with by singular perturbation. This conclusion calls into
question Pincock’s comparison to the boundary layer theory and the correct-
ness of the lesson he claims we should learn from the k →∞ idealisation. The
boundary layer theory introduced a difficulty in interpreting the width of the
boundary layer for two reasons: the decomposition of the domain involved
a spatial decomposition; and that there were multiple contradictory ways of
defining the width of the boundary layer. Neither of these features play a
role in the β → ∞ idealisation: not only are there no sets of scales involved,
meaning that there is no actual decomposition of the domain in spatial terms,
there is only one way to define the size parameter. So the problems that arose
with the boundary layer theory are not relevant to the β → ∞ idealisation.
But the comparison seems even more odd when we have a look at what Berry
has to say about the k →∞ idealisation in the passage quoted by Batterman
(Batterman 2001, pg. 88). Berry claims that “[the] shortwave (or, in quan-
tum mechanics, semiclassical) approximation . . . shows that wave functions ψ
are non-analytic in k as k → ∞, so that shortwave approximations cannot be
expressed as a series of powers of 1k , i.e. deviations from the shortwave limit
cannot be obtained by perturbation theory” (Berry 1981, pg. 519-520, emphasis
mine). So neither the β → ∞ nor k → ∞ idealisations involve perturbations.
rainbows as being diffraction caustics in §10.6, as well as the CAM theory of the ripple in§14.4.
226
This muddies the waters over what sort of mathematics Pincock thinks pre-
cludes viable interpretation. It initially appeared that singular perturbations
where the mathematics appeared to be used in an instrumental sense (as in the
boundary layer theory) precluded viable interpretation, and that the k → ∞
idealisation was an idealisation of this type. According to Berry, however, the
k →∞ idealisation is not of this type. So either Pincock’s point is general, in
that it is a warning that any mathematical link might preclude viable inter-
pretation, in which case it is rather vacuous: of course that might happen, and
warning that it might is of no help whatsoever. Or Pincock’s point is supposed
to be about certain mathematical links and that Pincock thought the k →∞
and β → ∞ idealisations are examples of these links and he is mistaken. In
either case, the β → ∞ idealisation does not provide us with any insight into
Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism as it is not a case of singular perturba-
tion, and so metaphysical agnosticism is not a viable interpretative position
to adopt in response to the idealisation. Whether this dilemma for Pincock’s
lesson is a result of the k →∞ and β →∞ idealisations will now be tested by
turning to the CAM approach and looking at whether it can shed any light on
Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism.
7.3.2 CAM Approach
The CAM approach promises to be a useful example. Pincock’s interpreta-
tion of the CAM approach can be analysed to learn more about metaphysical
agnosticism by asking the following type of questions. Does he adopt the
metaphysical agnosticism position towards the CAM approach? What are the
reasons for adopting the position he does towards the CAM approach? What
do these reasons tell us about metaphysical agnosticism? It will also allow
the distinction between Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism and Batterman’s
position to become clear (as this is the use Pincock puts it to himself, as well
227
as contrasting his view with that of Belot (2005)). Further, the soundness of
Pincock’s claims of how the CAM approach has to be interpreted can be ques-
tioned by comparing his interpretation with the surplus structure approach
adopted by the IC. Specifically, that the ray theoretic concepts are essential
for the use of the model. In the previous chapter, I argued that the ray theo-
retic concepts were heavily involved in the construction of the model, but are
not required for any serious use of the model (except perhaps for teaching it).
Accepting these arguments would make Pincock’s claims unsound with respect
to using the model to, for example, explain the existence of the supernumerary
bows. Given that Pincock employes the CAM approach within a discussion of
explanation, such a result threatens the soundness of Pincock’s account. This
problem will be developed a little further, while a possible escape is provided
by, again, the possibility that Pincock is following a different methodology,
such that this is not the problem it seems to be.
Pincock’s Interpretation of the CAM Approach
Pincock interprets the saddle points in a ray theoretic way (Pincock 2012, pg.
234). He justifies this interpretation by appealing to scale-like reasoning, that
the saddle points describe a situation where . . .
the dominant contributions . . . arise from electromagnetic waves which
approach the behavior of rays of light. In particular, we have assumed
throughout that we are operating in a context where the wavelength of
light is much smaller than the radius of the drop, the only other relevant
length parameter. So in terms of our size parameter β >> 1.
As the major contribution to the integral comes from the critical points, the
saddle points are conjectured to be associated to rays. Pincock does emphasise
the “experimental nature of this association”, pointing out that the Mie rep-
resentation does not include light rays “in its scope”, i.e. it does not contain
228
ray theoretic concepts or make reference to rays. Similarly, the association
between rays and saddle points is not dependent upon the ray theory. Pin-
cock puts this down to our rejection of the ray theory and that ray theory
has nothing to say about saddle points. Pincock has a similar line towards
the other critical points, the Regge-Debye poles (Pincock 2012, pg. 235). He
again points to the association being conjectural, though rather than linking
the poles immediately to surface rays or waves, he initially associates it with
light that has “traveled along the surface of the drop for some distance”. He
argues that we are aware that the ray theory cannot be capturing all of the
light that contributes to the rainbow, in particular the way in which light is
diffracted by spheres, and so we conjecture that the poles are associated with
surface waves. It is unclear whether Pincock intends for the poles to be as-
sociated only with surface waves, or whether he thinks that they should be
associated with surface rays, rays that hit the drop at the critical angle and
travel along the surface of the drop.17
While these associations might be conjectural and yet provide accurate
predictions, Pincock offers other reasons for why the CAM approach can be
considered a good explanation of the rainbow, though I will only discuss the
first of these.18 He argues that each step in the derivation is susceptible to a
physical interpretation (Pincock 2012, pg. 236). This a very different position
to the one that the IC adopts, where the CAM approach is considered surplus
structure, and that (roughly) most steps in the derivation can be considered
to be part of the derivation step. The IC might be capable of adopting a view
similar to this if ‘intermediary’ moves back to empirical set ups are viable. I
do not think that such moves are viable however.19
17See Grandy Jr (2005), pg. 175, and Figure 5.8 on pg. 176. These rays are describedin terms of surface waves here, though given Pincock does not go into details, there is anambiguity as to what he is referring to in the passage on pg. 235.
18The second concerns understanding the CAM approach as an abstract varying repre-sentation.
19For example, if we consider the CAM approach to be surplus structure we might have
229
Pincock asks what the explanations based on the β → ∞ idealisation and
CAM approach mandate for our beliefs about the rainbow. He appeals to
inference to the best explanation pointed towards the mathematical links in-
volved in the explanation, rather than it’s typical use of deducing the existence
of entities (Pincock 2012, pg. 237). With respect to the CAM approach and
the explanation of the supernumerary bows, he argues that (Pincock 2012, pg.
238):
it is not possible to explain the existence and spacing of the supernu-
meraries using just concepts deployed in the ray theory. This is because
interference and diffraction are central to what is being explained. At
the same time, it is not possible to explain this phenomenon by appeal-
ing only to what we find in the wave theory. Important links were made
between the critical points and aspects of the rainbow. These links were
given in terms of rays and surface waves. They involved aspects of the
light scattering that are not available from the perspective of the wave
theory alone. Instead, a scientist must ascend from the wave theory to
the ray representation before she is able to get the ‘physical insight’ into
the supernumeraries that CAM provides. This does not mean that she
must believe that the ray theory is correct. Instead, she must use the
results of one idealization to inform the proper interpretation of another.
The techniques deployed in the explanation of [the rainbow angle] and
the following arrangement: the Mie solution is the empirical set up; the Debye expansionis Model 1; the shift to the complex plane via the Poisson sum formula gives us Model 2;and the result of the CAM approach is the resultant structure of Model 2. This would haveto be mapped via an interpretation mapping to Model 1, and the appropriate structure ofModel 1 to an empirical set up to obtain an interpretation.To obtain a physical interpretation of each step, we might start with the Mie solution as
our empirical set up and consider the Debye expansion to be Model 1. The manipulationof the expansion to a form where it can be transformed by the Poisson sum formula wouldthen be the resultant structure, which we map to an empirical set up. We would then haveto start again with this empirical set up to obtain the CAM approach as a new Model 1.There is a major problem with adopting a physical interpretation of each step in the
above way, namely that it would effectively result in the rejection of the first type of surplusstructure. The statements made throughout the literature on partial structures literatureand the SV concerning this type of surplus structure indicate that it is not a type that oneshould give up. Therefore a version of the IC which includes interpretations for each step ofa derivation should be rejected.
230
[the colour distribution] and their proper interpretation let us explain
[the supernumerary bows].
As I argued in §6.3.2, however, Pincock is mistaken about the impossibility
of explaining the rainbow through the use of wave theoretic concepts alone.
Both types of critical points can be associated with wave behaviour: the saddle
points with points of stationary phase and the Regge-Debye poles with surface
waves. The problem for the IC came from the apparent requirement of ray
theoretic concepts in the construction of the model. Pincock’s exposition of
the rainbow and the relevance of the ray theoretic concepts to this, is within
this model creation context. He is concerned with relating each stage of the
derivation to a physical interpretation, and discusses the motivations behind
each move, such as the adoption of the Debye expansion (Pincock 2012, pg.
231, 236). One might judge Pincock’s account to give a better explanation
of the way in which we construct models and how mathematics represents in
such cases, i.e. it has an interpretation during model construction which the
IC does not allow. This might be the case, but would require a comparison
between Pincock’s account and a further developed partial structures version
of the SV, with the IC as a third axis. In terms of model use, I maintain that
Pincock has misunderstood the physics.
I have outlined how Pincock interprets the various aspects of the CAM ap-
proach above. Now I will go on to explore how this relates to his metaphysical
agnosticism and whether it can bring any clarity to this position.
The Rainbow and Metaphysical Agnosticism
In order to gain a proper understanding of metaphysical agnosticism, three
issues need to be settled:
(a) Does the CAM approach involve singular perturbation?
231
(b) Given the answer to (a), what does the CAM approach tell us about
metaphysical agnosticism?
(c) How different from Batterman’s position is metaphysical agnosticism?
Issue (a) is obviously the most important. Metaphysical agnosticism is a pos-
sible response to representations that involve singular perturbations, where it
is unclear whether we should adopt an emergentist or reductionist line (pre-
suming that we are rejecting an instrumentalist line).
Singular perturbations involve domains being split either physically, as in
the boundary layer case, or temporally, as in the Bénard cells and damped
harmonic motion cases. The temporal split can be interpreted as being due to
the presence of two processes, one working at a short time scale and one at a
long time scale. Such a split would be inappropriate for the CAM approach;
there are no time variables in any of the relevant equations (e.g. the Mie
solution or the third Debye expansion). Further, both Pincock and Batterman
talk about the rainbow in terms of it providing explanations of the stability of
the rainbow, a use of the representation that would be impossible unless the
representation was timeless. The spatial split is more promising, given that the
use of the ray theory explanation of the rainbow angle and colour distribution is
accepted by Pincock (when arrived at due to the β →∞ idealisation) when the
“wave theoretic aspects of light are not relevant to the path of the light through
the drop” (Pincock 2012, pg. 227). A spatial split of the domain is not required,
however. In the boundary layer theory case, we required singular perturbation
theory as assuming the initial set of scales for the Euler equation resulted in an
empirically false result, namely that the object would experience no drag. None
of the problems with the various rainbow representations were of this kind.
The ray theoretic representation was rejected for not being able to provide an
explanation of the supernumerary bows because it lacked the necessary wave
theoretic features. The Mie solution converged too slowly, which was remedied
232
by the adoption of the CAM approach. There is no motivation here for a
spatial split of the domain. There is clearly no use of singular perturbation in
the CAM approach.
Despite the negative answer to (a), the CAM approach is still a strong can-
didate for being interpreted in terms of metaphysical agnosticism. This can
be demonstrated by showing that what Pincock says about instrumentalism
and the metaphysical positions with respect to the CAM approach leaves logi-
cal room for adopting metaphysical agnosticism. Pincock explicitly rejects an
instrumentalist understanding of the mathematics involved in the CAM ap-
proach (or at least explicitly rejects an instrumentalist interpretation of similar
asymptotical moves and therefore by implication those of the CAM approach).
He agrees with Batterman’s claim that (Batterman 1997, pg. 396):
these ‘methods’ of approximation [the asymptotic analysis of the Airy
function] are in effect more than just an instrument for solving an equa-
tion. Rather, they, themselves, make explicit relevant structural features
of the physical situation which are so deeply encoded in the exact equa-
tion as to be hidden from view.
That is, he agrees that the mathematics “can contribute explanatory power”
(Pincock 2012, pg. 239).
Given the agreement between Batterman and Pincock in the explanatory
role these features can play, one can ask whether he also agrees with Bat-
terman’s position towards the relevant structures of the CAM approach (the
Regge-Debye poles and the saddle points). Batterman can often be regarded
as arguing for emergence, as in his (2001). With respect to these emergent
properties and explanations, Batterman makes claims such as the following.
When discussing the caustic-theoretic representation of the rainbow he claims
(Batterman 2001, pg. 96):
It seems reasonable to consider these asymptotically emergent struc-
233
tures to constitute the ontology of an explanatory ‘theory’, the charac-
terization of which depends essentially on asymptotic analysis and the
interpretation of the results.
When discussing emergent properties more generally he claims (Batterman
2001, pg. 127):
The explanatory role of the emergents: Emergent properties figure in
novel explanatory stories. These stories involve novel asymptotic theo-
ries irreducible to the fundamental theories of the phenomena.
Other than quoting Batterman’s position on emergent properties, Pincock
makes no mention of understanding the rainbow in reductionist or emergen-
tist terms. He does, however, signal a rejection of a reductionist approach
by reminding the reader of the scaling techniques and how they prevent the
adoption of a reductionist position. This signal, with his attempt at clarifying
the idea behind Batterman’s position, indicates to me that there is room to
reject a metaphysical stance towards the rainbow, and adopt the metaphysical
agnostic position (that is not to say that Pincock does this).
What, then, can the CAM approach tell us about metaphysical agnosti-
cism? The structures we are investigating here are the Regge-Debye poles and
the saddle points (the critical points) and more generally the ray theoretic
structures. We need to get clear on what position Pincock adopts towards
these structures, and how similar these positions are to the metaphysical ag-
nosticism position. Lets start with the rays. When Pincock discusses the rays
in the context of the CAM approach and the explanation of the supernumerary
bows, he again uses talk of a scale like nature: “all we have come to accept as a
result of our explanations is that in certain contexts there are aspects of light
that are accurately captured by the ray representation” (Pincock 2012, pg.
241). He argues that the explanatory power of the ray representation comes
from how it is grounded in the wave theory, i.e. the more fundamental theory.
234
In order to understand this point, we need to remember the distinction Pin-
cock draws between theories, representations and models (Pincock 2012, pg.
25-26):
Theory A theory for some domain is a “collection of claims” that aim
“to describe the basic constituents of the domain and how they interact”.
Model Any entity that is used to represent a target system [i.e. a
representational vehicle]. We “use our knowledge of the model to draw
conclusions about the target system”. They may be concrete entities, or
mathematical structures.
Representation A model with content.
Pincock is attempting to argue that we are only ontologically committed to
the wave theoretic concepts we use, as this is the only theory we are entertain-
ing. We can entertain and make use of various representations without being
committed to what they would posit as the constituents of the domain if they
were taken to be theories. This distinction also allows us to take represen-
tations to be explanatorily useful. In this sense, we can use rays to explain
the rainbow, by relating rays to saddle points and Regge-Debye poles, without
being ontologically committed to the rays. We can draw a parallel here to the
way in which the Bénard cells are explained using multiple scales. i.e. The
Bénard cells are considered to be physical features of the system, but we are
not committed to them in any kind of metaphysical way (regarding them as
emergent structures or that they can be reduced). In this situation, the Bénard
cells are analogous to the critical points, and the multiple scales (representing
two different processes) are analogous to the ray theoretic and wave theoretic
contributions to the CAM approach.
One last position needs to be ruled out before we can claim that we can
adopt a metaphysical agnosticism position towards the CAM approach, namely
235
the “wait and see” kind of agnosticism (i.e. McGivern’s position). Pincock ar-
gued against a “wait and see” type of agnosticism in the case of the Bénard
cells by rejecting McGivern’s position. I also argued that one could not adopt
a “wait and see” position while maintaining that one was truly rejecting the
reductionist and emergentist positions. Another part of Pincock’s rejection of
the metaphysical positions was that our knowledge of the Bénard cells and the
system through them “may be a product of our ignorance and in the end may
not correspond to what a fuller understanding of the system would reveal”
(Pincock 2012, pg. 119). This is, in part, due to “our limited access to the de-
tails of the fluid dynamics”. This suggests that we can avoid the metaphysical
agnostic position (and possibly embrace one of the metaphysical positions) if
we have a proper understanding of the fundamental theory. This is the case
with the fundamental theory for the CAM approach. Pincock’s argument is
not that we have to use ray theoretic concepts to relate the critical points to
the world due to an ignorance of the wave theory, but that the ray theoretic
concepts are required for relating the critical points to the world. That is,
the only way of connecting the critical points is through ray theoretic con-
cepts. This suggests that Pincock does not hold there to be any metaphysical
difficulties with understanding the rainbow due to ignorance. If there is any
difficulty, it is for other reasons. This further suggests that Pincock does not
adopt metaphysical agnosticism towards the rainbow. The conclusion of the
above argument is that Pincock will adopt some kind of emergentist or reduc-
tionist position towards the critical points. Which position Pincock adopts will
be established in the next section, §7.3.2 - Pincock, Batterman & Belot. Before
I move on to this discussion, a complication with the above argument needs
to be dealt with, which concerns the analogy between the CAM approach and
the Bénard cells.
The idea that our knowledge of the fundamental theory should dictate
236
which metaphysical position we adopt leads to a disanalogy between the CAM
approach and the Bénard cells. We have a fundamental theory in each case:
the wave theory for the CAM approach, and the Navier-Stokes theory for
fluids. This raises the question as to why there appears to be no metaphysical
interpretive issues in the case of the CAM approach due to ignorance, but there
are for the Bénard cells. The difference seems to be that we have an explanation
for how the critical points, ray theoretic concepts and wave theoretic concepts
are related in the case of the CAM approach through the use of the theory,
representation and model distinction. In the case of the Bénard cells we do not
appear to have a similar explanation available. The explanation in terms of
the distinction allows us bridge the explanatory gap between the faithfulness
and usefulness in the CAM case. Our ability to judge the (partial) faithfulness
of the CAM representation seems to come from the relationship between the
ray representation and the wave theory, i.e. the taking of the β → ∞ limit.20
The usefulness of the representation is down to our ability to ‘identify hidden
structure’ through the representation, i.e. structure that was already present
in the wave representation but was otherwise inaccessible (Pincock 2012, pg.
221).
An alternative approach to this issue is to ask whether we can consider the
Bénard cells to be ‘hidden structure’ in the way the critical points are. There is
room for this position. Batterman uses the term ‘hidden structure’ to describe
the relevant structures of the rainbow he holds to be emergent. If this position
can be maintained for any structures that might be classed as emergent, then
it is a suitable description for the Bénard cells. If we can class the cells as
structures of this kind, then we can ask the question why we cannot employ
20There is a problem if this is indeed Pincock’s position, as we do not in fact use the thislimit when using the CAM approach; rather we only need β to be greater than 50. Pincockneeds to clarify how essential the actual taking of the limit is to the relationship between theray representation and concepts to the critical points, or whether it is only the possibilityof the limit is which is important.
237
the theory, representation and model distinction in the Bénard cells case, i.e.
why we could not consider the Bénard cells to be a representation with no
ontological commitment in the way the critical points are. A possible reason
why the distinction is not relevant is the move to schematic content required
by the use of the singular perturbations. The CAM approach involved shifts to
schematic content when moving into the complex plane, however, so the mere
presence of schematic content cannot be the reason for the difference. The
only viable option seems to be the the supposed ignorance of the fundamental
theory, but it is not clear how we are ignorant of the Navier-Stokes theory.
Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism is starting to look unjustified. The
above comparison of the rainbow and the Bénard cells suggests that there
is little difference between the two cases, at least insufficient differences to
justify the adoption of a ‘third table’ between the instrumentalist table and
the metaphysical table (reductionism or emergentism). All that remains is
to establish whether there is any difference between the position Pincock does
hold towards the rainbow and Batterman’s, and whether this has any influence
on how we should evaluate metaphysical agnosticism.
Pincock, Batterman & Belot
As identified above, Pincock agrees with Batterman’s claims that the CAM ap-
proach reveals hidden structure and that such structures can be explanatory
(Pincock 2012, pg. 221). The first difference between their positions comes
from Pincock’s rejection of Batterman’s claim that we should adopt the emer-
gent structures as a new ‘theory’ (Batterman 2001, pg. 96):
It seems reasonable to consider these asymptotically emergent struc-
tures to constitute the ontology of an explanatory ‘theory’, the charac-
terization of which depends essentially on asymptotic analysis and the
interpretation of the results.
238
To which Pincock responds that “both sympathizers and critics have not agreed
on what Batterman takes the interpretative significance of this ‘theory’ to be”
and subsequently puts forward his distinction between theory, representation
and model (Pincock 2012, pg. 222). It this is novel distinction and attitude
towards representations derived from theories that sets Pincock apart from
Batterman and Belot. Pincock blames the “traditional assumption” that using
a representation derived from a theory requires one to accept the ontology
of that theory to be behind Batterman’s stronger, emergentist position and
Belot’s “deflationary” view.
For instance, Batterman is quoted by Pincock as endorsing a ray theoretic
ontology due to ray theoretic boundary conditions (Batterman 2005b, pg. 159):
those initial and boundary conditions are not devoid of physical content.
They are ‘theory laden’. And, the theory required to characterize them
as appropriate for the rainbow problem in the first place is the theory of
geometrical optics. The so-called ‘pure’ mathematical theory of partial
differential equations is not only motivated by physical interpretation,
but even more, one cannot begin to suggest the appropriate boundary
conditions in a given problem without appeal to a physical interpreta-
tion. In this case, and in others, such suggestions come from an idealized
limiting older (or emeritus) theory.
Pincock’s objection to this is that in using the ray representation (distinguished
from the ray theory as he does), we have not been required to adopt any
believes about light that the ray theory incorrectly offers, whereas Batterman
is endorsing the adoption of such beliefs.
Pincock understands Belot’s position to be a “deflationary” one. Pincock
quotes Belot’s discussion of the relationship between the wave (the more fun-
damental) theory and the ray (the less fundamental) theory (Belot 2005, pg.
151):
239
The mathematics of the less fundamental theory is definable in terms
of that of the more fundamental theory; so the requisite mathematical
results can be proved by someone whose repertoire of interpreted phys-
ical theories includes only the latter; and it is far from obvious that the
physical interpretation of such results requires that the mathematics of
the less fundamental theory be given a physical interpretation.
Pincock argues that a correct interpretation of Belot would be to claim that
the success of the CAM approach and catastrophe theory does not entail com-
mitment to the ray theory’s ontology. Pincock also argues, however, that this
“deflationary” reading does not do justice to the explanatory power of the ray
theoretic concepts, in particular the fact that the significance of the critical
points could only be accessed through the use of ray theoretic concepts. Pin-
cock also points to Redhead’s (2004) response to Batterman here as being
deflationary. Redhead agrees with Batterman over the new explanatory power
that can be obtained through asymptotic reasoning, but asks why we cannot
accept these structures as being cases of surplus structure, rather than reify-
ing them and claiming them to be emergent properties or structures (Redhead
2004, pg. 529-530). This indicates that Pincock understands surplus structure
to be an instrumental use of mathematics, a position I rejected in §7.2.2 -
Metaphysical Agnosticism above.
The rejection of the traditional assumption in favour of Pincock’s distinc-
tion between theories and representations does not result in a large difference
between his and Batterman’s views, at least according to Pincock himself. He
believes his . . .
conclusion is completely in the spirit of Batterman’s many remarks on
the interpretive implications of asymptotic reasoning. So I do not intend
my discussion here as a criticism of his views. At the most, what I argue
is that Batterman’s views are not as clear as they should be, and this has
240
hampered the appreciation of the significance of cases like the rainbow.
In support of Pincock’s claim that his position is in the spirit of Batterman’s,
Pincock points to a quotation which he claims outline’s Batterman’s “consid-
ered view”: “asymptotic explanation essentially involves reference to idealized
structures such as rays and families of rays, but does not require that we take
such structures to exist” (Batterman 2005a, pg. 162).
It is not my job to argue for whether Batterman’s strong position or what
Pincock considers to be his considered view is correct. I am concerned with
attempting to understanding Pincock’s metaphysical agnosticism, what his at-
titude towards the rainbow is, and whether these positions are distinct from
Batterman’s position. The above discussion makes it clear that what does all
of the work for Pincock is his distinction between theories, representations and
models. This distinction allows Pincock’s attitude towards the rainbow to be
clearly distinguished from Batterman’s strong position: there is no endorse-
ment of any emergent properties, nor any ray ontology, whereas Batterman
at times endorses both of these positions. I take a consequence of Pincock’s
distinction to be a rejection of emergentism, and an endorsement of reduction.
He has effectively argued that, although we need to represent the rainbow with
ray representations, we are not committed to any ray theoretic or emergentist
(as with Batterman) ontologies, which constitutes a rejection of emergentism
and endorsement of reductionism.
The above discussion and model, representation and theory distinction do
little for helping to clear up the mystery around metaphysical agnosticism.
The question can still be raised why we cannot take advantage of the theory,
representation and model distinction towards the Bénard cells. What use is
adopting the metaphysical agnosticism in this situation? Why could we not
describe the situation as requiring a higher level representation, which does not
commit us to any higher level ontology than that of the fundamental theory,
241
the Navier-Stokes theory? Although Pincock does talk of the discovery of
novel metaphysical features, I do not see the difference between this and the
supernumerary bows. I do not think that Pincock can produce an answer
to these questions, and therefore reject his metaphysical agnosticism as being
justified.
At best, metaphysical agnosticism is too underdeveloped a position to be
able to hold until more work is done; or at worst, it is untenable, collapsing
into a rough form of reductionism.
7.4 Conclusion
In this chapter I have argued that different structural resources are required on
the PMA for Galilean idealisation and for singular perturbation idealisation.
For Galilean idealisation, the PMA can employ the notions of the structural
relation, which include mathematics, the specification relation and schematic
content. Singular perturbation idealisations are held to have wholly schematic
content at a time, with some representations obtaining an interpretation in
terms of new physical concepts, which requires a new specification relation and
limited structural relation. The issue of how faithfulness and usefulness are
related for each idealisation was not definitively settled in either case. For the
Galilean idealisations, the faithfulness was accounted for through the structural
similarity between target and vehicle, demonstrated through the structural
relation. These idealisations were held to be useful due to the specification
relation, providing interpretations and altering the structural relation to the
specific requirements of the representation at hand. I urged some caution,
here, as these idealisations could be described as being useful ‘because we
design them to be’.
Establishing how faithfulness and usefulness are related for singular pertur-
bation idealisations turned out to be far more difficult. For the singular limits
242
that resulted in instrumental type representations, such as the boundary layer
theory, the relationship appeared to be broken. While there were mathemati-
cal links between the target and the vehicle, these were not strictly part of the
representational content for the PMA, and the mathematics that was part of
the content was schematic, i.e. had no interpretation. This schematic content
threatened the possibility of calling the mathematics an epistemic representa-
tion. The introduction of the genuine content provided a possible solution here,
but this move does not provide much help in establishing the link between the
faithfulness and usefulness of the representation with genuine content and the
target. Pincock advocated adopting the position of ‘metaphysical agnosticism’
towards some singular perturbation idealisations, such as the Bénard cells and
damped harmonic oscillators. I argued that this could be understood as a
‘third table’ to the instrumentalist and metaphysical (reductionism or emer-
gentism) tables. Pincock’s original exposition of this position was unclear. I
attempted to gain a clearer understanding of this position through the β →∞
idealisation and the CAM approach. This investigation resulted in a rejection
of the metaphysical agnosticism as a viable position, with the argument that
Pincock should adopt the reductionist position that results from his theory,
representation and model distinction.
I posited that a reason for the difficulties in relating the faithfulness and
usefulness for both types of idealisation might be the difference in methodology
Pincock has in comparison to Contessa and the proponents of the IC. I will
survey this difference in methodology in the next chapter. The next chapter
also involves subjecting the IC and the PMA to the questions set out in Chapter
2, with the aim of choosing between the two accounts.
243
8 | Choosing An Account
8.1 Introduction
In Chapter 4 I argued in favour of understanding the IC and the PMA as
accounts of faithful epistemic representation. At the end of the chapter, one
question remained unanswered: question (2.b), which asked “how does it [the
putative account of faithful epistemic representation] account for the relation-
ship between faithfulness and usefulness?” The aim of the last two chapters was
to attempt to answer this question according to each account. I approached
the question by recasting it as the following two questions:
1. What is the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness?
2. What structural resources are used to account for idealisations, and are
they the same across different types of idealisations?
The rainbow was chosen as a case study, to test the answers to the above two
questions. The β → ∞ idealisation and the CAM approach were leveraged
to this end. In this section I will summarise how both accounts were found
to answer the above two questions, and the success or otherwise, of those
answers after being subjected to the β →∞ idealisation and CAM approach.
I will be attempting to draw out more general points than were made in the
previous chapters, so that the lessons learnt there can be brought into the
broader discussion over what a successful account of mathematical scientific
representation should look like. In the next section, §8.2, I will reintroduce
244
the problems of the applicability of mathematics, and attempt to answer them
on the IC and the PMA. The questions can be mostly answered, apart from
the problem of misrepresentation due idealisation and abstraction on the PMA.
The solution to this problem was supposed to come out of the discussion in the
previous two chapters, as it did for the IC. In §7.2.2 -Metaphysical Agnosticism
and §7.4 I suggested that the cause of this issue was the methodology Pincock
adopts to construct his account. I will investigate the methodologies and argue
against Pincock’s in §8.3.
8.1.1 The Inferential Conception
The IC provided a good account of the relationship between the faithfulness
of a representation and its usefulness through the notion of partial truth and
the partial structures framework. Idealisations can be understood as ‘as if’ de-
scriptions: descriptions that are treated ‘as if’ they are true in the appropriate
theoretical contexts. This notion of being treated ‘as if’ they were true can
be handled by partial truth, while a measure of how partially faithful a repre-
sentation is can be gained from the notion of how partial a partial structure
is (i.e. the ‘size’ of Ri of the vehicle compared to the ‘size’ of the Ri of the
target). This is an approach that works very well for Galilean idealisations,
while a threat was thought to come from singular limit idealisations. The issue
originated in attempting to understand such idealisations as surplus structure,
a position proponents of the IC hold (Bueno & French 2012, pg. 91).
Much useful work was done in investigating the notion of surplus structure,
such as the splitting of the notion into four roles and assigning the individual
roles to particular parts of the SV and IC. A problem was found with under-
standing singular limits as idealisations. As idealisations on the IC are to be
understood as ‘as if’ descriptions, one could only have an idealisation once one
has a theoretical context, something unobtainable during the derivation step.
245
This meant that singular limits should not be understood as idealisations until
the end of the interpretation step.1
Such limits were thought to introduce surplus structure during the immer-
sion stage. I argued that the limits would be surplus structure of the first
type, that which would never have a physical interpretation. A consequence of
adopting partial structures in the derivation in order to accommodate surplus
structure of this type causes one to face the following dilemma:
Very Large R3 Problem the partial structure in the derivation step
must contain all mathematical structures in the R3 component (in case
any mathematical structure is required to be adopted as surplus struc-
ture in the future).
Mathematical Restriction Problem it is unclear what can moti-
vate a restriction in what mathematical moves we hold as possible
moves, and hence limit what is placed in R3 (as the derivation step
takes place within the (uninterpreted) mathematical domain, no physi-
cal considerations can be appealed to).
Possible solutions to both horns of the dilemma were investigated, but all
require work. I’ll cover the most promising response to each horn here.
Solutions offered up to the Mathematical Restrictions Problem were split
into two types: those that are ‘internal’ to the mathematics, i.e. rely solely
on features of the mathematics at hand, and those that are ‘external’ to the
mathematics. The most promising internal solution was to appeal to a no-
tion of there being natural extension of the mathematics included in the first
model, and that only the mathematics that constitutes this natural extension
be included in the R3. Support for this approach came from the analysis of
the CAM approach: I argued that one only needed the typical mathematical
resources that come with transforming a real function into the complex plane1See page 162 for the discussion of this point.
246
and the Euler identity, and that if anything was a candidate for a natural ex-
tension, it is the move into the complex plane for real functions. I also argued
that the Euler identity was a similar example of a natural extension. However,
more work is needed to generalise this solution; it is unclear whether a general
notion of ‘natural extension’ can be explicated that is not too restrictive in
some cases and too permissive in others (though even these notions require
specification).
The solution to the Very Large R3 Problem was to bite the bullet, to admit
that one is committed to all other mathematical structures being ‘in’ the R3.
The most promising approach to this was to argue that the partial structures
are representational devices and so there is only the appearance of a problem
(as being representational devices, there is no problematic commitment in
play). One reason for this approach being the most promising will be developed
below: recognising that the IC is operating at the ‘meta-level’ allows one to
make use of the partial structure framework in a way that does not require
reifying the partial structures. Working at this meta-level allows one to avoid
taking the representation relation, partial structures in the derivation step,
and so on as literally set theoretic relations (i.e. as partial morphisms).
A solution to the dilemma is required for the IC to be held as a viable
account of representation. For the sake of argument, I will assume that a
solution can be found. There are still problems for the IC, however, brought
out by the β → ∞ idealisation. This idealisation demonstrated that not all
singular limits introduce surplus structure. Recognising this required the IC
to be adjusted as to when one could say surplus structure was introduced via
a singular limit. This is not a destructive result for the IC, but the alterations
prompted by the β idealisation caused slight worries.2
While the CAM approach was found to be a great example of surplus
2Specifically, the idea that that we could take a singular limit from an empirical set upseemed to be ‘too quick’. I attempted to assuage these worries. See §6.3.1 for details.
247
structure, it also introduced a further problem. Proponents of the partial
structures framework often talk about its ability to handle both model creation
and use. The CAM approach, and Pincock’s analysis of it, threaten this unified
approach, however, for the specific way in which partial structures are used
in the IC. It appeared that there were good reasons for doubting that the
IC would be able to accommodate the application of mathematics in model
creation. A rough sketch of a solution was offered, the key idea being that the
IC is a third axis in the SV, where there is a ‘horizontal’ axis for inter-theory
relations (such as model creation) and a ‘vertical’ axis between abstract models
and data models (French 2000, pg. 106).
8.1.2 Pincock’s Mapping Account
For the PMA, it was found that different structural resources were required for
different types of idealisations. This resulted in a different relationship between
faithfulness and usefulness for different types of idealisations. For simple and
Galilean idealisations, the PMA provided a good account of both the content
of the representations and of the relationship between the faithfulness and
the usefulness of representations. The notion of enriched content is used to
account for simple idealisations such as the use of real numbers to represent
magnitudes, or regions of space involved in the representation of temperature.
Galilean idealisations are handled by adopting the notion of schematic content,
where part of the mathematics is decoupled from its interpretation. These are
then explained to be partially faithful due to the structural similarity between
the enriched and genuine contents, related by the structural relation. The
usefulness of these idealisations is accounted for by the specification relation,
which provides the interpretation of the mathematics. One can be reductive
and claim that these idealisations are useful because we design them to be.
A problem arose, however, when I attempted to understand the relationship
248
between faithfulness and usefulness for representations that involved singular
limits, which were cast as involving singular perturbations by Pincock. In
general, these idealisations are handled by all content being schematic con-
tent, which is then, in part, given a new interpretation, i.e. take part in a
new specification relation. The first example of the boundary layer theory did
not pose a problem by itself, though it was challenging to understand how
it could produce successful predictions on Pincock’s account. Pincock adopts
an instrumentalist line towards the representation, which would indicate that
the content remained entirely schematic. Thus, the boundary layer theory
demonstrated the unusual position Pincock has adopted towards content and
prediction, with predictions not being part of the content of a representation.
The motivation for adopting this instrumentalist position was that the singu-
lar perturbation involved a physical split of the domain, which is physically
unmotivated.
The Bénard cells and damped harmonic motion examples motivated Pin-
cock’s adoption of metaphysical agnosticism. He rejected the instrumentalist
and metaphysical (i.e. reductionism and emergenticism) positions as inter-
pretations of the singular perturbations. I was unconvinced by Pincock’s ar-
guments against the instrumentalist position and his arguments in favour of
rejecting the metaphysical options. I concluded this first analysis of meta-
physical agnosticism with the claim that there is explanatory gap between the
partial faithfulness and usefulness of these representations left by the refusal
to provide any sort of metaphysical, or at least some explicit structural, link
between the target system and the representation. A result of this explanatory
gap is that circularity threatens: the representations are useful because they
provide accurate predictions, and because they provide accurate predictions,
we take them to be partially faithful, and so can take them to be useful.
In an attempt to get clearer on what metaphysical agnosticism is, I turned
249
to the rainbow, and the β → ∞ idealisation and the CAM approach again.
Unfortunately my analysis of the β →∞ idealisation provided no clarification,
and only served to damage the PMA: Pincock’s warning that mathematical
links might preclude interpretations is either vacuous (because of being too
general) or is as a result of misunderstanding the physics. Discussion of the
CAM approach could again be split over the issues of model creation and use.
However, little could be said that was of benefit to understanding metaphysical
agnosticism even when this distinction is made. The PMA might well be a
more plausible account of how model creation occurs than one might able to
find on the SV and IC, but I disagree with Pincock over the physics in the
use case. The CAM approach was useful for gaining a better understanding
of metaphysical agnosticism: Pincock makes use of it to contrast his view
to those of Batterman and Belot. My analysis of this discussion lead me to
conclude that metaphysical agnosticism either requires further work to be a
viable position, or that it collapses into a type of reductionist position.
The rejection of metaphysical agnosticism left a hole in Pincock’s account:
the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness was still unexplained. At
the end of §7.2.2 - Metaphysical Agnosticism an attempt of how to save Pin-
cock’s account was sketched. Pincock is not providing a unified framework,
but rather a set of tools to be adopted and adapted towards each case study.
Thus, the position one holds will depend on the example at hand, in a more
relativised way than one would in following the IC. I proposed that this was
due to a methodological difference between the IC and the PMA. This is an
idea that will be pursued in the rest of this chapter. The viability of Pin-
cock’s account will depend on whether the problems outlined in Chapter 7 can
be solved given the results of the investigation into the methodology he has
adopted.
250
Before the methodological discussion, I will show how each account in turn
can answer the questions set out in Chapter 2.
8.2 Are the Accounts of Representation
Successful?
The last few chapters were concerned with identifying the internal problems
and issues with the structural accounts of representation. There are ques-
tions these accounts have to be able to answer that are external, namely the
questions and problems raised in Chapter 2. We are now in a position to see
whether the Inferential Conception and Pincock’s Mapping Account are ca-
pable of answering these questions. The applied metaphysical question, the
problem of relating the mathematical domain to the world, was solved in §2.4
where I argued in favour of structural relations. However, as emphasised by
Pincock’s analysis of these questions, the applied metaphysical problem set a
very low bar for its answers. I argued further that specifying exactly what
what was required of the relation fell under the problems of representation.
A structural relation was chosen in part because it could serve as (part of) a
representation relation, hence the endorsement of structural relation accounts
of representation in Chapter 3.
Two problems are straightforward to answer on the IC: the multiple inter-
pretations problem and the isolated mathematics problem. I think that the
IC can also offer a straightforward answer to the novel predictions problem,
though some argumentation is required to establish that the answer is natu-
ralistically acceptable. Similarly, the PMA is capable of providing straight-
forward answers to the multiple interpretations and the isolated mathematics
problems. I also think that the PMA can be extended to answer the novel
predictions problem (Pincock (2012) does not discuss any problems related to
251
novel predictions). Whether the answer that the PMA supplies can be consid-
ered a naturalistically acceptable one also requires discussion. This discussion
over (naturalistic) methodology is not to be confused with the discussion over
the problems of representation. In the novel prediction case, the methodology
at stake is that of naturalism, specifically the ‘strict’ naturalism Bangu (2008)
identifies as being incompatible with his Reification Principle. In the case of
the problems of representation, in particular the relationship between faithful-
ness and success, the methodology under discussion is that of the philosophy
of science: what role should philosophy of science, examples, and so on, be
playing in our analysis of science. I will survey the answers to the problems
of misrepresentation I have already given (in §3.3.1 - The Argument from Mis-
representation and §3.5), before discussing the methodological approaches of
Pincock and the advocates of the IC, as the answers to the final questions (mis-
representation due to idealisation and abstractions, and what the relationship
between the faithfulness and usefulness of a representation is) depend on the
outcome of the methodological debate.
8.2.1 The Isolated Mathematics Problem
The SU(3) example shows that a detailed and complete history of the math-
ematics is required to establish whether the mathematics can be truly held to
be isolated. If it is the case that the mathematics is isolated, then a (presum-
ably) unique explanation of why it is applicable must be found. This is not
the case. Both the IC and PMA can straightforwardly answer this problem in
a general way.
The IC and PMA attribute the applicability of mathematics to the struc-
tural relations between the physical and mathematical domains. All that is
required of mathematics is that it provides a structure that is sufficiently sim-
ilar to the physical structure it is applied to (depending on issues related to
252
representation). The origins of the mathematics are irrelevant to this way
of understanding applicability and representation. How a mathematician or a
scientist comes to find or construct a piece of mathematics is an interesting his-
torical question, the answer to which has no bearing on the structural resources
provided by the mathematics. On this account of representation, the isolated
mathematics problem is fact a non-problem: the ‘isolation’ of the mathematics
is irrelevant, and so there is nothing relevant about the mathematics to cause
a problem for these accounts.
8.2.2 Multiple Interpretations
The multiple interpretations problem was motivated by the very different ways
in which the negative energy solutions of the Dirac equation were interpreted
by Dirac. They were first rejected as being non-physical, then interpreted as
‘holes’ in a sea of negative energy electrons, and finally as positrons. The
problem asked how these different physical interpretations could have any pre-
dictive success. The start of an answer can be found when the authors of the
IC discuss how one might understand the prediction of the positron on the IC:
(Bueno & Colyvan 2011, pg. 365):
This example [the prediction of the positron] also illustrates how the
inferential conception explains which parts of the mathematical models
refer and which do not. First, the conception provides a framework to
locate and conceptualize the issue: the work is ultimately done at the
interpretation step. Some interpretations are empirically inadequate,
and thus fail to provide an entirely successful account of the applica-
tion process. Dirac’s interpretation of the negative energy solutions as
‘holes’ clearly illustrates this point. However, despite being at best only
partially successful, such empirically inadequate interpretations can be
very helpful in paving the way for empirically successful interpretations.
They offer some understanding of how the world could be if the interpre-
253
tation were true, and they can lead the way to interpretations that are
empirically supported. Again, Dirac’s interpretation of the negative en-
ergy solutions in terms of the ‘positron’ beautifully illustrates this point.
As a result, the inferential conception sheds light on the issue of how
mathematical models with non-referring elements can be useful.
Remember that on the IC an interpretation is a partial mapping from the
mathematical structure to a (partial) empirical set up structure. While each
interpretation will require a different partial mapping to differently (partially)
structured empirical set ups, the partial success of the different interpretations
can be explained through there being partial mappings between the empirical
set ups. That is, the structure of the empirical set up that gives the ‘hole’
interpretation might be partially isomorphic to the structure of the empirical
set up that gives the positron interpretation.
The PMA can provide a similar story, though obviously cannot take advan-
tage of the partial structures framework. Here the interpretation comes from
the specification relation. Thus different interpretations of the same mathe-
matics will require different specification relations. There is a slight compli-
cation, however, as Pincock might not hold all of the mathematics involved
in the derivation of the negative energy solutions as being part of the repre-
sentational content. Assume that the negative energy solutions themselves, as
predictions, are not part of the content of the representation. One cannot then
reinterpret the negative energy solutions by relating them to the target via dif-
ferent specification relations because they are not part of the representational
content and thus not actually related by the specification relation. Rather,
we have to relate the original content by a different specification relation (and
therefore possibly a different structural relation) and then follow the steps
through the extrinsic mathematics to get the same solutions. These solutions
will now have a new interpretation due to following from the differently in-
254
terpreted (due to the new specification relation) representational content. We
can then talk about the similarities between the specification and structural
relations as being responsible for the success of the different interpretations.
The solutions to the multiple interpretation problems on both accounts
show that the problem arises not due to differences in the mathematics, but
rather in properly relating that mathematics to the world. The solutions talk
about similarities between the structures of the interpreted mathematics, the
empirical set ups, or the target of the specification and structural relations,
rather than about the mathematics itself. The idea that can be pushed here
is that the mathematics is describing the correct structure, but that a physi-
cal understanding of the structure has not been obtained yet. Thus progress
is slowed, because the correct physical consequences cannot be deduced. We
might be able to predict certain behaviours or values via an incorrect interpre-
tation, such as the negative energy solutions describing a positively charged
particle’s movement in an electric field correctly when interpreted in terms of
‘holes’. But this is due to the mathematics representing the correct physical
structure (in part), rather than the interpretation. The ‘hole’ interpretation
was rejected due to physical considerations, such as attempting to understand
it as a proton, which would require the mass of an electron and the proton to
be the same. The underlying idea to the solutions, then, is that the mathemat-
ical structure is correctly describing the world, and thus a Formalist reading
of the mathematics is being used. As such, the solutions to the multiple in-
terpretations problem actually rest upon a solution to the novel predictions
problem.
8.2.3 The Novel Predictions Problem
The novel predictions problem can be set out as follows:
(i) Can we provide an explanation as to why Formalist/Pythagorean pre-
255
diction is successful (if one is available)?
(ii) Can we provide a consistent methodological understanding of how novel
predictions are made? (Whether we can have a consistent methodological
treatment of the positron and Ω− predictions, of D-N type and Formal-
ist/Pythagorean type predictions.)
(iii) If we can have such a consistent methodological treatment, can it be one
that conforms with the strict naturalistic view? Or must it be Bangu’s
methodological opportunism, or similar?
(iv) If we cannot have such a consistent methodological treatment, must we
accept Steiner’s pluralism, or a similar position?
In Chapter 2 I surveyed Bangu’s analysis of Steiner’s discussion of prediction
and his, Bangu’s, reconstruction of the argument at the heart of that discus-
sion. I highlighted that Bangu’s naturalist holds there to be no explanation
of why the Reification Principle (RP) succeeds or fails.3 This being the case,
the naturalist would answer negatively to (i). I think that the IC and the
PMA can provide an explanation for why the RP succeeds in some instances
and fails in others. The answer is actually one of the responses that Bangu
argued fails, namely that what is doing the work is the interpretation of the
mathematics.
The interpretation response as set out by Bangu begins by claiming that
“the crucial reificatory step . . . was taken by interpreting the mathematical
formalism, [in that] it is not the formalism itself that predicts, as it were, but
our interpretation of it: . . . without a physical interpretation, no empirical
predictions could ever be obtained from any formalism” (Bangu 2008, pg. 255-
256). This much I agree with. We need to physically interpret the mathematics
3Bangu’s (RP) is as follows: “If Γ and Γ′ are elements of the mathematical formalismdescribing a physical context, and Γ′ is formally similar to Γ, then, if Γ has a physicalreferent, Γ′ has a physical referent as well” (Bangu 2008, pg. 248).
256
in order to obtain any kind of physical information. The problem with this
response, as Bangu sees it, is that there is a different notion of interpretation
at work in the case of Formalist or Pythagorean prediction than in typical
cases of mathematical representation. He contrasts the interpretation of the
F in F = ma as force with the interpretation in the case of the prediction of
the Ω−. He describes the F interpretation as being synonymous with “spec-
ify[ing]”, targeting which sort of force we are representing (elastic, electrical,
etc.), whereas he describes the Ω− interpretation as “essentially, . . . reifying
a piece of formalism”. He argues that Gell-Mann’s interpretation of the for-
malism “proceeded (consciously) along analogical-pythagorean lines and was
brought to a specific conclusion by using the RP”.
The root of the problem with the interpretation response, according to
Bangu, is that interpretation, for the naturalist, cannot proceed by ‘reifying
mathematics’, due to it resting on an application of the RP which is natu-
ralistically unacceptable. Thus the solutions offered by the IC and the PMA
need to do two things: explain how the RP can be naturalistically accept-
able; and provide consistent ways of interpreting mathematics. Both accounts
satisfy the second of these conditions: all interpretations on the IC are (par-
tial) mappings from pure mathematical structures to the suitably interpreted
structures of the empirical set up. As explained in §6.2.1, the empirical set
ups are physical interpreted mathematical structures, those that compose the
models used in the SV. Similarly, all interpretations on the PMA are due to the
specification relations. Pincock’s variable notions of representational content
complicate matters slightly, in that at times there will be schematic content.
But this complication only concerns which piece of mathematics is interpreted
in a given representation; it does not effect what interpretation consists in on
the PMA.
257
The IC and the PMA can give the same general answer for how the RP can
be successful or unsuccessful by leveraging their answer to the applied meta-
physical question and constitutive question for representation: the structural
relations. The structural relations will relate a part of the physical structure of
the target to a part of a large mathematical structure. The idea is that when
the RP succeeds, the physical structure used as the target of the representation
and the mathematical structure used as the vehicle are similar enough4 that
the derivations and mathematical manipulations we perform ‘reveal more’ of
the mathematical structure that can then be interpreted to ‘reveal more’ of
the physical structure. In cases where the RP fails, the two structures would
be insufficiently similar. The idea here is that the mathematical moves ‘re-
veal more’ mathematical structure, but that these moves do not relate to the
further unknown physical structure. What grounds this idea is that we can fol-
low the structure more easily in the mathematics, i.e. we can use mathematics
to draw surrogative inferences, but due to the large size of the mathematical
structures, we can make ‘false’ moves, i.e. follow relations which are available
in the mathematics but not present in the physical structure. We need a suffi-
ciently similar mathematical structure as our representational vehicle in order
to successfully apply the RP.
Where this response comes up short is that we cannot, ahead of time, know
whether a particular interpretation will be successful. This is only a problem if
one retains the idea that interpretation qua RP is different to the interpretation
of F = ma, but there is no difference between these interpretations on the IC
and PMA. Thus there is no special problem of explaining why ‘Pythagorean’
prediction fails, as it fails for the same reason and traditional prediction fails.
With this answer to (i), we can provide a positive answer to (ii) as well:
both cases of prediction of the positron and the Ω− can be consistently ac-
4In the IC case, sufficiently partially morphic; in the PMA case, whatever notion ofstructural similarity Pincock is happy to use.
258
counted for. On the IC, novel prediction is simply the mapping from a piece of
mathematics to a new empirical set up, where that empirical set up is found to
be empirically adequate and the empirical set up contains a novel particle, be-
haviour, etc., that constitutes the novel prediction. The difference between the
prediction of the positron and the Ω− consists in a difference in the response to
the interpretations of the mathematical structures involved in the predictions.
In the case of the prediction of the positron, we had a mathematical structure
that was incorrectly, partially, interpreted which lead to anomalous behaviour
and a reinterpretation of the mathematics. For the Ω− prediction, the mathe-
matical structure could be explored more quickly than the physical structure in
combination with a very close similarity between the mathematical and physi-
cal structure. Thus the prediction of the Ω− appears to be different because no
verification of the results could be carried out until much later. However, the
process was the same. The mathematics was not ‘reified’, but used to explore
what the physical structure might be. It played the representational role of
allowing for surrogative inferences to be drawn about the target, the world.
When one makes ‘Formalist’ or ‘Pythagorean’ predictions and analogies, one
is not reifying mathematics but exploring the structural relations that might
exist in the physical structure. One is predicting what the larger physical
structure will be like, given the larger mathematical structure. I think that
this answer is compatible with a strict naturalistic approach, and so answer
positively to (iii). As the IC is acceptable to the naturalist, its account of
interpretation should also be acceptable.
On the PMA, we can give the same sort of response in general. We are using
mathematics to obtain surrogative inferences, thus in exploring the mathemat-
ical structure we are exploring the possible physical structure that we related
via the structural relation. Thus novel prediction will involve relating the
mathematics to a physical structure that contains a novel prediction. Things
259
are made more complicated, however, when we take into account the various
notions of representational content Pincock employes, and that predictions are
not part of the representational content. The first complication is that this
actually seems to block novel prediction of entities: while predictions might
not be part of the representational content, they get their interpretations from
the specification relation and the enriched and genuine content involved in
the representation. This implies that we cannot actually make predictions of
novel entities, as they will not be part of the initial specification relation. Thus
if we start a representation interpreting the mathematics of the Dirac equa-
tion in terms of ‘holes’, or where negative energy solutions are not physically
meaningful, we cannot predict a positron as there is no mathematics without
an interpretation that we can incorporate as ‘new structure’, where this ‘new
structure’ becomes the positron when interpreted. The response is to employ
schematic content. Something might encourage us to reject the interpretation
that we started with, and adopt a schematic content for a piece of mathe-
matics which we can then either perform further work on, or adopt a new
interpretation of, i.e. adopt a different specification relation.
While this response appears to solve the problem, it raises a second compli-
cation. The situation is the same as occurs during the use of singular pertur-
bations. As outlined in §7.2.2, when one makes use of a singular perturbation,
one has to move to wholly schematic content before adopting a new interpre-
tation of the mathematics. However, this is problematic as it is unclear how
the faithfulness and usefulness of representations are related. The same worry
exists here: what justifies the adoption of the new specification relation?
8.2.4 The Problem of Misrepresentation
In §3.5 I argued that some of the problems of misrepresentation were relevant
and legitimate problems for accounts of scientific representation. This argu-
260
ment consisted in a rejection of a unified account of representation and the
adoption of Contessa’s accounts, accepting his notions of epistemic and faith-
ful epistemic representation. An epistemic representation is held to be one
that allows for valid surrogative inferences about the target to be drawn, a
(partially) faithful epistemic representation is one that results in (some) sound
surrogative inferences to be drawn. Thus misrepresentation can be understood
as the drawing of false surrogative inferences about the target. Suárez (and
Frigg) argued against structural relation accounts of representation by claim-
ing that they could not account for cases of misrepresentation. In Suárez’
argument, he distinguished two kinds of misrepresentation, each of which in-
volves two further types of misrepresentation: mistargeting; and inaccuracy.
Mistargeting arises when either a representation’s target does not exist (such
as in the case of the mechanical ether or phlogiston), or where one misidentifies
the representation’s target (such as in Suárez’ example of the Pope Innocent X
painting and one’s friend). I dismissed inaccuracy due to empirical inadequate
results as being a general problem for philosophy of science, and claimed that
it did not need to be addressed specifically by an account of representation.
I also argued that mistargeting due to mistaken targets is caused by agents,
rather than the structural relation, and so was not a problem to be dealt with
by accounts of representation, claiming that recognising the fault lies in the
agents’ intentions and uses of representational vehicles solves the problem.
I argued that one’s response to the problem of mistargeting due to non-
existent targets would depend on what use one was attempting to put one’s
representation. The use will dictate whether the representations are successful
or not. If one is attempting to make inferences about the target phenomenon
that are restricted to the phenomenon’s behaviour, then the problem of non-
existent targets need not be a problem, so long as one obtains (suitably) accu-
rate results. However, if one is attempting to use the representation to obtain
261
inferences about the ontology of the world, then misrepresentation due to the
non-existence of a target is a major problem.
The issues of idealisation and abstraction5 were dealt with in §6.2 for the
IC and in §7.2 for the PMA. I argued that the IC could account for both
types of idealisation (Galilean and singular limit) that I investigated. It could
also answer the important question raised by adopting Contessa’s framework,
of explaining how the faithfulness and usefulness of a representation could be
linked. The PMA did not fare as well. I could only establish an answer to
the faithfulness and usefulness question for Galilean idealisation, and this an-
swer was not particularly satisfying (that Galilean idealisations are faithful and
useful because we make them be). In the case of the singular limit idealisa-
tions, recast by Pincock as representations that involve singular perturbations,
I found there to be no clear explanation for the relationship between faithful-
ness and usefulness. I suggested in the previous chapter that this lack of clear
explanation was due to a difference in the methodology adopted by Pincock
compared to Bueno, Colyvan, French and Contessa. I will now turn to dis-
cussing the methodologies, in the hope that this will provide a reason for the
lack of explanation of how faithfulness and usefulness are related on the PMA.
8.3 Methodologies
Above I suggested that the methodology Pincock adopted towards creating
his account was the cause of the issue over how faithfulness and usefulness
are related. To form an argument based on this suggestion, I wish to draw
parallels between Pincock’s approach and that of Brading and Landry in their
debate over structural realism with French. Brading and Landry argue6 that
the partial structures framework is not required to account for the applicability
5I did not address abstraction directly, claiming that what was said for abstraction couldbe adapted to accommodate abstraction.
6Brading & Landry (2006), Landry (2007), Landry (2012).
262
of mathematics, in that the mathematical relations themselves are sufficient.
French (2012) responds that the root of this rejection of the partial structures
framework is a fundamental disagreement over what the role of philosophers
of science is. This disagreement consists in what French describes as the re-
jection of a ‘meta-level’, a level ‘above’ scientific theories, which are described
as the ‘object level’. It is at the meta-level that the philosopher of science
operates and employs the partial structures framework as a representational
aid to answer questions concerning the structure of, and relationships between,
scientific theories, the applicability of mathematics, and questions of scientific
realism. After setting out this debate in further detail, based on the most
recent contributions, I will argue that Pincock’s attitude towards the repre-
sentation relation is sufficiently similar to Brading and Landry’s attitude to
the mathematical relations to call into question whether he thinks we should
be working with a meta-level.
8.3.1 The Brading, Landry & French Debate
French defends the ‘meta-level’ analysis and use of the partial structures frame-
work by arguing that Brading and Landry’s arguments are based upon two
problematic positions: a misconstrual of the kinds of activity philosophers of
scientists should engage in; and a failure to distinguish between, for example,
the work done by group structure at the ‘object level’ and the work done by
the set-theoretic approach required by philosophy of science at the ‘meta-level’
(French 2012, pg. 3). That theories and the relationships between them are
identified with set-theoretic structures and relations is a common mistake put
forward as a criticism of the the partial structures framework. As far as French
is concerned (French 2012, pg. 5):
set theory offers an appropriate representational device for the philos-
ophy of science and the structural realist in particular; its use should
263
not be taken to imply a particular ontological stance with regard to ei-
ther theories themselves or the nature of the structure ‘in’ the world the
realist takes them to represent
Landry’s central claim is that “debates about, or accounts of, scientific
realism, need neither a metaphysical, logical nor mathematical meta-linguistic
framework” (Landry 2012, pg. 30). She aims to show this by arguing that
(Landry 2012, pg. 33):
mathematical structure itself, and yet not just that of physics, is the
‘crucial objectifying structure for science’, so there is no need to ‘deploy
the resources of logic’ to ‘superadd’ to mathematical structure to give
a structural account of concepts, or to give, what [she explains] as, a
structural presentation of kinds of objects
and to
consider what work mathematical structure does at the ‘object level’
of scientific practice and, contra . . . French . . . forego consideration of
what work logical or mathematical structure does at the ‘meta-level’ of
philosophy of science.
Her argument turns on a distinction between the presentation and representa-
tion of objects (Brading & Landry 2006, pg. 573):
[F]or physical theories; theoretical objects, as kinds of physical objects,
may be presented via the shared structure holding between the theoret-
ical models. However, at the ontological level, a physical theory insofar
as it is successful, must also represent particular physical objects and/or
phenomena and not merely present kinds of physical objects.
The idea behind this distinction is that structural mappings are only capable of
identifying shared structure, and that all that is achievable through identifying
264
this shared structure is the identification of what kinds of objects the theory
talks about. What is needed is an account of representation that provides an
account of how the theory can move from talking about kinds of objects to be
about particular objects (Brading & Landry 2006, pg. 576).7
Her argument against a meta-level approach is that “unless we presume
that the world is set-structured, appeals to the meta-linguistic structure of
scientific theories have no ontological bite. That is, there is no global, meta-
level, ‘philosophical’ perspective of the structure of scientific theories from
where [the No Miracles Argument] can be put to use” (Landry 2012, pg. 47).
However, she does believe that we can adopt a “ local, object level, ‘scientific’
perspective of the structure of a particular scientific theory from where [the No
Miracles Argument] can be used to ‘cut nature” ’ (Landry 2012, pg. 48). The
argument for this is in part the rejection of the appeal to partial structures
(due to the claim that they do no work in presenting the structure of, for
example, quantum mechanical structures, or in the representation of quantum
mechanical objects) and in part an explanation of, for example, how group-
theoretic structure and group-theoretic morphisms “do the real work ”. The
idea is that when one expresses quantum mechanics group-theoretically, one
forms a theory that presents the structure of quantum mechanical objects
in group-theoretical terms: “e.g. it presents bosons and fermions as group-
theoretically ‘constituted’ kind of objects” (Landry 2012, pg. 50). French’s
position on how set theory should be used, as a representational device at the
meta-level, suggests that Landry is wrong to think that we have to believe
the world is set-theoretically structured in order to have “ontological bite”
from the set-theoretical structure when it operates at the meta-level. Further
to this, French reminds us that “the structure that the structural realist is
concerned with should not be, and should never have been, construed as ‘pure’
7I will leave the details of these positions to the side, as they concern the debate overstructural realism, a debate I am not interested in in this thesis.
265
logico-mathematical structure; it was always intended to be understood as
theoretically informed structure” (French 2012, pg. 6).
The point of contention between French and Landry I want to focus on
is how they each specify the notion of shared structure between the physical
(data or phenomena models) and the mathematical models. For French, this is
specified by the notions of partial structure and partial morphisms. For Landry,
the shared structure is made precise at the local level, that is “the shared
structure can be made appropriately precise via the notion of a morphisms and
the context of scientific practice determines what kind of morphism” (French
2012, pg. 6). French quotes her claim that (Landry 2007, pg. 2):
mathematically speaking, there is no reason for our continuing to as-
sume that structures and/or morphisms are ‘made-up’ of sets. Thus, to
account for the fact that two models share structure we do not have to
specify what models, qua types of set-structures, are. It is enough to say
that, in the context under consideration, there is a morphism between
the two systems, qua mathematical or physical models, that makes pre-
cise the claim that they share the appropriate kind of structure.
This context dependency is brought out clearly in what Landry says about the
application of group theory to quantum mechanics. She argues that the mor-
phisms that are doing the work in connecting the models are group-theoretic,
not set-theoretic (e.g. Lie group transformations), and that (Landry 2007, pg.
10-11):
what does the real work is not the framework of set theory (or even
category theory); it is the group-theoretic morphisms alone that serve
to tells us what the appropriate kind of structure is.
French generalises this point as “the use of the concept of shared structure that
determines the kind of structure and characterises the relevant meaning and
266
all the relevant work is done by the contextually defined morphisms” (French
2012, pg. 10).
French’s argument can now be summarised: he concentrates on what counts
as relevant ‘work’ from the above quotation by asking the questions ‘who’s us-
ing?’ and ‘what’s working?’ In the group theory and quantum mechanics
example, it’s clear that the physicists and mathematicians use group theory,
rather than partial set-theoretic structures, in the relevant physical contexts:
“in the context of the quantum revolution, it was group theory, not (par-
tial) set-structures that was effectively doing the (physical, mathematical and
hence object level representational) work” (French 2012, pg. 21). Philosophers
of science use the partial set-theoretic structures to represent theories, their
inter-relationships, etc., in order to analyse the structure of scientific theories,
the inter-relationships between theories, answer questions concerning the ap-
plicability of mathematics (e.g. how are the faithfulness and usefulness of a
representation related?), settle ontological questions, and so on. While this is
a representational activity, as well, the representational target is clearly dif-
ferent. Philosophers of science are operating at the ‘meta-level’, where the
target is theories, rather than the world, as is the case at the object level. Set
theoretic structures are doing the work in this representational activity at the
‘meta-level’. So the disagreement comes from . . . :
the need for a meta-level representational unitary framework (provided
by set-theory, category theory, whatever). Brading and Landry insist
that it is ‘shared structure’ (group-theoretic, in the above case study)
that does all the work but the work that is being done is ‘physical’ (!)
work and while I agree that this is appropriate for physicists, philoso-
phers are doing a different kind of work, that requires a different set of
tools. To insist that this form of work should be dismissed would be a
radical step that would fundamentally revise our conception of what the
philosophy of science is all about.
267
French concludes that proper philosophical analysis cannot proceed without
employing the appropriate tools at this meta-level, and that a rejection of this
level turns philosophy of science into something it should not be (French 2012,
pg. 26):
Without some formal framework, set-theoretic or otherwise, that can
act as an appropriate mode of representation at the meta-level, our ac-
count of episodes such as the introduction of group theory into quantum
mechanics would amount to nothing more than a meta-level positivis-
tic recitation of the ‘facts’ at the level of practice. Any concern that
the choice of a set theoretic representation of such an account would
imply that set theory is constitutive of the notion of structure can be
assuaged by insisting on the above distinction between levels and modes
of representation.
The “positivist recitation of the ‘facts” ’ is the claim that the group-theoretic
morphisms account for all of the features of science we are attempting to
explain as philosophers of science. I agree with French’s responses to Brading
and Landry. Philosophers of scientists are operating at a ‘meta-level’ and so
require the appropriate tools to operate at this level.
The debate between French and Brading & Landry is over whether we
need the ‘meta-level’ analysis, and so over whether there is any work to be
done by the set-theoretic structures. Part of Brading and Landry’s rejection
of the meta-level is the argument that the context determined morphisms are
sufficient in explaining how objects are presented. Another is a refusal to
identify (or reduce) these morphisms to any underlying, unifying framework
(either set theory or category theory). These two positions lead Brading &
Landry to argue that applications of group theory to quantum mechanics can
be explained in terms of group-theoretic morphisms, such as the transforma-
tions between the Lie groups. To me, this position is similar to Pincock’s view
268
that the structural relation that forms the representation relation is context
dependent, in that it can contain mathematical terms. I will now outline how
I view Pincock’s methodology, looking at the role specific examples play on his
account. I will argue that Pincock does adopt some form of meta-level/object
level distinction, but that the context dependence he embraces is the root of
the difficulties I have found with his account thus far.
8.3.2 Pincock’s Methodological Approach
Pincock holds that mathematical representations obtain their content in three
stages: we fix the mathematical structure used as the representational vehi-
cle (the model); we assign (parts of) this model physical significance through
denotation or reference relations; and a structural relation is given so that
parts of the mathematical structure can be mapped to the target system (Pin-
cock 2012, pg. 257). Pincock says very little about how this structural re-
lation should be understood. When outlining his various notions of content,
he argues that we need more complicated relations than isomorphisms and
homomorphisms (Pincock 2012, pg. 31). This greater complexity was to be
introduced through the introduction of mathematics into the structural rela-
tion. For the temperature diffusion example employed during the introduction
of the notion of enriched contents, this consisted in including an error term
with an isomorphism as the structural relation. More generally, this can be
phrased as the enriched contents being “specified in terms of the aspects of
the mathematical structure”, via the structural relation. When providing his
answer to the applied metaphysical question, Pincock argues the simplicity in
answering the problem allows for numerous answers to be given. He rejects
Steiner’s set-theoretic solution, arguing that his structural relations (those set
out in Pincock (2012), Chapter 2), are a possible solution. Pincock endorses
this solution is one does not identify the relations with sets (Pincock 2012, pg.
269
174).8 Finally, when discussing the indispensability of mathematics (and the
agreement of the anti-realist positions of Hellman and Lewis with his version of
the indispensability argument), he again comments on the structural relation
being specified, i.e. including, mathematical terms (Pincock 2012, pg. 197).
Given that enriched contents are required for the majority of representations
(ones which go beyond the simple basic contents which require isomorphisms
between target and vehicle), I take it that nearly all mathematical representa-
tions will involve structural relations that include mathematical terms in some
way.
The existence of mathematics in the structural relation brings Pincock’s
position close to Brading’s and Landry’s. This is because the mathematics
involved in the structural relation will be dependent upon the specific target
of the representation. This is clearly seen in the temperature example, where
the structural relation is held to include an error term in order to accommo-
date temperature being defined over regions, while the real numbers describe
a dense continuum (Pincock 2012, pg. 31). Pincock does not discuss any other
representation in such detailed terms, so it is unclear what he would take to
be included in other cases. One can make an educated guess however. In the
irrotational fluid example (used in his exposition of abstract varying repre-
sentations (Pincock 2012, §4.2)), the Navier-Stokes equation is simplified by
adopting several idealisations: that the fluid is incompressible and homoge-
nous, which results in a constant density; that there is a steady flow of fluid,
which results in the equations being time independent; and that we ignore the
viscosity of the fluid, which involves setting the term that represents viscosity,
µ, to 1 (Pincock 2012, pg. 69). I think it is reasonable to take the structural
relation required for this representation to include the setting of the density to
a constant value and µ = 1. It would also not relate to time, though this leads
8This mirrors Landry’s position of refusing to identify the morphisms with set-theoreticor category-theoretic morphisms (Landry 2007, pg. 2).
270
to schematic content.9 In the rainbow example, Pincock talks of the critical
points being connected to the rainbow through both ray and wave theoretic
concepts (Pincock 2012, pg. 238). While I disagree with Pincock’s analysis
of the representation of the rainbow, if we are to accept what Pincock says
here, I think that the structural relation involved would have to include ray
and wave mathematics in order to do its job of relating the CAM model to the
rainbow in the way Pincock claims it is. From these examples and how the
structural relations need to be structured, i.e. what mathematics they need
to include, I can infer how Pincock would analyse Landry’s group-theoretic
quantum mechanics example. It requires either a group-theoretic mapping as
the structural relation in the extreme case, or group-theoretic concepts in the
structural relation in the conservative case.
One might infer from the above argument that I take Pincock to implicitly
reject the need for a meta-level analysis of representation. I do not think that
this is the case. Rather I think that his focus on what he considers to be the
epistemic benefits of mathematics and a focus on case studies has shaped his
account in a way that prevents it from properly answering the question over
how faithfulness and usefulness are related. When outlining his approach,
Pincock is explicit in looking for a “general strategy” (Pincock 2012, pg. 5) for
answering the questions he is looking at (Pincock 2012, pg. 3):
[F]or a given physical situation, context, and mathematical representa-
tion of the situation [we can ask:]
(1) what does the mathematics contribute to the representation,
(2) how does it make this contribution, and
(3) what must be in place for this contribution to occur?
Pincock’s account of representation is therefore aimed at providing general an-9Pincock explains why this is the case when outlining the moves involved in establishing
a ‘steady state’ representation of traffic flow (Pincock 2012, pg. 55).
271
swers to these questions, and should be capable of providing general answers
to the questions I raised in Chapter 2. Indeed, he must think his account is
capable of this, as he devotes an entire chapter to analysing Steiner’s questions
(Pincock 2012, §8).10 What, then, has gone wrong for Pincock? In §8.3.3 I
will provide a brief survey of what he takes to be some of the main epistemic
benefits of the use of mathematics in scientific representations. This survey
indicates that all of these can be accounted for by the IC (and thus by ac-
counts of representation that explicitly focus on the surrogative inferences).
So the problem is not caused directly by the different focus on the epistemic
benefits itself. Rather, I think the problem is that the structural relation in-
cludes mathematics specific to the representation at hand. This trivialises
the obtaining of faithful representation, which violates Contessa’s maxim that
while obtaining epistemic representation is cheap, obtaining faithful epistemic
representation is costly.
I will now provide the brief survey of the epistemic contributions and outline
how they can be accommodated through surrogative inferences. Two of these
contributions will be given further space as I take Pincock’s arguments for how
his account accommodates them to be based on a position I do not think he
should hold.
8.3.3 Accounting For Pincock’s Epistemic Contributions
The epistemic contributions Pincock believes mathematics makes to science
include (Pincock 2012, pg. 8):11
i) “aiding in the confirmation of the accuracy of a given representation
through prediction and experimentation”;
10I even relied on some of this analysis in my Chapter 2.11Throughout this thesis I have not discussed the constitutive role (or the derivative role)
of mathematics that Pincock outlines in his Chapter 6, as I do not take it to be relevantto the questions I am concerned with. As such, the epistemic contributions Pincock takesmathematics to contribute due to these roles have been ignored here.
272
ii) “calibrating the content of a given representation to the evidence avail-
able”;
iii) “making an otherwise irresolvable problem tractable”;
iv) “offering crucial insights into the nature of physical systems”.
This is in addition to the “metaphysical role of isolating fundamentally math-
ematical structures inherent in the physical world”. ‘Inherent’ here should be
read in a way that is appropriate for one’s account of representation. In the
case of the IC, this would be that the target systems could be structured in
the way required to be considered empirical set ups. In Pincock’s case, this
would be cashed out in terms of the notion of instantiation he adopts (Pincock
2012, pg. 29). Pincock also identifies further epistemic contributions that come
from the various types of representations he identifies (Pincock 2012, pg. 9-11).
Abstract acausal representations offer the following contributions:
(v) if the acausal representation was obtained from a causal representation,
then we might gain information about the system that was not explicit
in the casual representation;
(vi) the acausal representation is easier to confirm, due to having less content.
The abstract varying representations also involve particular epistemic contri-
butions:
vii) enable the transfer of evidential support from one representation (in the
family) to another;
viii) indirect contribution from failures of the representation to treat all mem-
bers of the family equal (Pincock 2012, pg. 82).
Either due to:
273
(viii.a) there being more shared structure than identified by the represen-
tation;
(viii.b) overextension demonstrating that a member of the family is differ-
ent to an/the other member/s in some respect.
And finally the representations concerned with scale supposedly provide the
contribution of (Pincock 2012, pg. 119):
ix) a third response to the debate over metaphysical interpretations and
instrumentalism concerning ‘emergent’ properties
I have already looked at the viability of ix) in §7.2.2 through §7.3.2, and the
arguments in this chapter concerning the methodology Pincock has adopted.
Contributions iii), iv) and (v) are all straightforwardly handled through the
ability to draw sound surrogative inferences in our representational vehicle. I
understand the contribution of i) to simply be the obtaining of sound surrog-
ative inferences, that is, of establishing a (partially) faithful representation.
I take the idea behind the notion of “calibrating the content” included in ii)
to be that one aims to include only what one is is aiming to represent in the
world in one’s representation, though this is masked by being set out in a way
that appears rather specific to Pincock’s account. As this will involve finding
suitable mathematics on any account of representation, I do not take this to
be a specific contribution obtained only through Pincock’s account. I take
(vi) to be independent of one’s account of representation: it is a claim about
one’s account of confirmation and how that relates to ‘how much’ content a
representation has. I take that any representation that results in less content
(however that is measured) will be easier to confirm if one adopts a similar
account of confirmation as Pincock does (i.e. a Bayesian inspired account.)12
The contributions identified in (viii.a) and (viii.b) require individual anal-
ysis. These are both due to abstract varying representations. These are rep-12See Pincock (2012, §2.8-2.9.
274
resentations that involve a mathematical model that is variously interpreted
in terms of different systems. These systems might be different only in that
they are individual systems of the same type, e.g. two copper springs, or dif-
ferent in nearly every way, such as (in Pincock’s example) irrotational fluids
and electrostatics.
The two contributions in (viii.a) and (viii.b) are held to be due to there
being some shared structure between the two systems (this is the basis behind
there being abstract varying representations in the first place). However, Pin-
cock places more emphasis on this shared structure than I think he should be
able to if he is following his account properly. In particular, given the claims
he makes over how mathematics is interpreted during a representation.
Both cases are held to be indirect contributions due to there being inac-
curacies when applying the abstract varying representations. (viii.a) occurs
when “there is some underlying mathematical similarity to all the systems,
but the current family of representations has missed this in some respects”
(Pincock 2012, pg. 82). (viii.b) occurs when one member of the family can
be represented with an extension of the mathematics, but another member
cannot. This can lead to differences between the members being identified.
The idea behind these contributions is that the targets of the abstract varying
representations share a certain amount of structure that is partially repro-
duced in the representation. These arguments also require that one is able to
discuss the mathematical similarities or dissimilarities between the represen-
tations and draw conclusions from this. Such a discussion requires the ability
to divorce the mathematics from its interpretation (to discuss the mathemati-
cal structure itself) and then hold that the mathematical structure is in some
sense shared/instantiated/etc. (depending on one’s account of representation)
between the targets. But Pincock faces a problem with both of these re-
quirements. First, Pincock can only talk of the content of representations in
275
uninterpreted terms when it is shifted to a schematic content. This means
that the abstract varying representations would only be able to provide some
of their epistemic benefits when they are not, in fact, being ‘various inter-
preted’, but when they are shifted to schematic versions that do not have
interpretations. Second, Pincock is clear in outlining these epistemic benefits
as being obtainable when mathematics is not playing a “metaphysical role”,
that is, when it is not being claimed to be shared/instantiated/etc. in the
target system (Pincock 2012, pg. 8). But this second requirement only makes
sense if mathematics is playing the “metaphysical role”: unless one claims that
the targets of the abstract varying structures have some structure in common
that the mathematics is reproducing (as per one’s account of representation),
then the mathematical arguments are unfounded.
These advantages can be accounted for by the IC: we map to the same
mathematical model in each case due to each of the target systems being par-
tially -morphic to the repeatedly used mathematical model. As we are now in
the domain of uninterpreted mathematics, we can make the necessary math-
ematical arguments to derive our conclusions. The interpretation mappings
then let us attempt to relate our mathematical results to the target systems,
and the failure (or not) of these partial mappings can inform the fit of the
mathematical conclusions to the target system. (viii.a) will occur when we
have mapped ‘too small’ a partial structure to the mathematical domain from
the empirical set up, and the same partial mappings are used in the immersion
and interpretation steps in all of the varying representations.13 Thus the same
piece of the target systems’ structures are missed in each application. (viii.b)
occurs when the same partial mapping is used in the immersion step, but the
13By ‘same’ mapping here, I mean a mapping that takes the same mathematical elementsand relations to suitable elements and relations in the empirical structured in the same way.That is, the mappings will result in the same structure in each empirical set up. The differentinterpretation comes from the structures in each empirical set up being of different physicalsystems.
276
resultant structure after the ‘over extension’ cannot be mapped to different
empirical set ups using the same interpretation mapping. The idea here is
that we have the same partial structure mapped from the different empirical
set ups to the mathematical domain, but that there is no ‘larger’ partial struc-
ture in common between the empirical set ups. Hence some extension of the
‘small’ mathematical structure to a ‘larger’ mathematical structure will result
in us being unable to use the same interpretation mapping in all instances.
As the IC (and other accounts of representation that focus on surroga-
tive inferences) can accommodate the epistemic contributions outlined in this
section, another argument in favour of Pincock’s account is blocked. If these
types of account could not accommodate the epistemic contributions, then
they would be missing something related to mathematical representation that
Pincock’s account has identified. However, this is not the case. Thus Pincock’s
account does not appear to offer anything over and above what the IC itself is
capable of providing.
I will now, finally, choose between the IC and the PMA as my favoured account
of mathematical representation.
8.4 Choosing An Account
As I highlighted above, the irrotational fluid example included several ideal-
isations (e.g. the fluid is incompressible and homogenous, so the density is
a constant), which would require mathematics specific to that example being
included in the structural relation. I then argued that in more complex cases,
the structural relation would end up being close to the type of relation that
Brading and Landry claim as being sufficient to account for the representa-
tions. This same relation is one that French would understand to be operating
at the ‘object level’. I agreed with French’s argument that the work we are
277
required to do as philosophers of science require its own set of tools, and that
set theory is one such tool. It is important to remember is that partial struc-
tures are being used to represent structures and relationships at the object
level in our philosophical work at the meta-level. By including mathematics in
the structural relation in the way I understand Pincock to be, the distinction
between the object level and meta-level is blurred. It becomes unclear how we
can use mathematics (that is, structural relations that include mathematical
terms) to represent the relationship between mathematics and physical sys-
tems to answer questions of how mathematics is applicable, in general, at the
meta-level. A consequence of this is that the work required of the philosopher
of science becomes more difficult to achieve. Hence my difficulty in identifying
the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness in Pincock’s analysis of
the singular perturbation representations. If the structural relations respon-
sible for representational content are specified in the way Pincock requires,
making use of case specific mathematics, then accounting for our ability to
use representational vehicles to draw sound surrogative inferences is a simple
matter of pointing to the structural relation. As I claimed when discussing
Pincock’s analysis of Galilean idealisations, and what now appears to hold for
all representations on Pincock’s account, representations are faithful and use-
ful on Pincock’s account because we design them to be. The idea is that we
design our representations to have a sufficiently close a fit to our target system
such that the results are more than likely to be correct, and so we trivially
obtain faithful representations.
I subscribe to Contessa’s maxim that faithful epistemic representation does
not come cheap (Contessa 2011, pg. 127). His brief argument for this is that it
doesn’t take much to draw surrogative inferences with a representational ve-
hicle about a target (hence epistemic representation being cheap), but it does
take a lot to explain how we are able to construct faithful epistemic representa-
278
tions that are sufficiently faithful for our (scientific) purposes. This is a maxim
made and argued for from the meta-level perspective. If we ask how represen-
tations are able to grant us sound inferences at the object level, the answer
is rather obvious: the representations are physically interpreted mathemat-
ics that are related to the target system through (very specific) mathematical
relationships. But these object level questions can only provide case specific
answers. When operating at the meta-level, we want general answers to our
questions, as the questions at this level are general themselves. Providing ad-
equate answers to questions at this level is difficult, given the range of cases
that such an answer will have to cover, hence the cost involved in providing
a suitable account of faithful epistemic representation. Due to Pincock’s blur-
ring of the object and meta-levels, I take his answers to trivialise this difficulty,
providing answers that are too case specific than is suitable when operating at
the properly distinguished meta-level. For this reason I am inclined to reject
his account as a viable account of representation.
In contrast to Pincock’s Mapping Account, the Inferential Conception has
answered the questions set out in Chapter 2. It is able to account for relation-
ship between the faithfulness and usefulness of representations in a way that
respects the costs involved in answering the question, and does so at what I
take to be the appropriate level (a clearly distinguished meta-level). While the
account still requires some work (see §6.2.3 onwards), it is a more successful
account of representation than Pincock’s.
A final worry can be levelled at the IC. The arguments in this chapter
rely on the meta-level/object level distinction. By adopting this distinction,
I am committing myself to employing the partial structures framework in a
representational capacity. Thus, my answers to the problems of the applicabil-
ity of mathematics are at the meta-level. This role and the meta-level/object
level distinction was employed by French to resist the reductive moves Landry
279
wished to make (e.g. that group theory was really set theory, and so set theory
accounts for quantum phenomena). One might therefore take the answers I
have supplied via the IC to not actually answer the constitutive question of
Chapter 3, nor the applied metaphysical question of Chapter 2. If the par-
tial structures framework of the IC is in fact representing relationships at the
object level, then I have not provided an account of what the representation
relation, or the relation responsible for the applicability of mathematics, is at
the object level. And it at this level that the constitution question and applied
metaphysical question are operating. My response to this charge to insist that
these questions operate at the meta-level. The meta-level is simply the level
at which philosophers of science operate. Thus any philosophical question is a
question at the meta-level. Confusing the levels causes the problems found in
Pincock’s account.
8.5 Conclusion
In this chapter I have brought the questions of Chapter 2 to bear on the IC and
the PMA. The both accounts could provide answers to the isolated mathemat-
ics, multiple interpretations and novel predictions problems. The IC provided
a good answer to the problems of representation. The attempt to answer these
questions on the PMA prompted an investigation into the methodology Pin-
cock adopted in constructing his account. The conclusion of this investigation
was that Pincock’s methodology trivialised the obtaining of faithful epistemic
representation. This occurred due to the focus on examples and inclusion of
mathematics in the structural relation. The trivialisation of faithful epistemic
representation in combination with the quality and cohesiveness of the IC’s
answers to the other problems prompted me to choose the IC as the superior
account of mathematical representation.
280
I will now draw the thesis to a close by summarising the conclusions of each
chapter and the thesis as a whole in the next chapter. I will also identify where
further work can be pursued, and whether such work can improve the position
of each account.
281
9 | Conclusion
In this thesis I set out to answer several of the problems of the applicability
of mathematics. In Chapter 2 I argued that there are nine problems that fall
under this banner, and that the problems of representation were the most sig-
nificant problems. Answers to these problems set limits on the relation that
answers the applied metaphysical problem and form the basis for answering
the problem of isolated mathematics and the novel predictions problem. I
argued in favour of structural accounts of representation in Chapter 3, con-
cluding that they offered the resources necessary to provide accounts of faithful
epistemic representation. A partially faithful representation is one that facil-
itates the drawing of at least one sound surrogative inference from vehicle to
target. I argued in favour of the Inferential Conception of the Applicability
of Mathematics, set out in Chapter 6, throughout the rest of the thesis and
rejected Pincock’s Mapping Account, set out in Chapter 7. I introduced the
case study of the rainbow, concentrating on the β → ∞ idealisation and the
CAM approach, which is required to explain the supernumerary bows. I used
the case study to establish whether each account could explain the relation-
ship between the faithfulness and usefulness of representations. My argument
against Pincock’s Mapping Account relied on a problem with the methodol-
ogy Pincock adopted in constructing his account. His focus on examples and
incorporating mathematics into the structural relation that formed part of his
representation relation trivialised the relationship between the faithfulness and
282
usefulness of representations. Contessa’s maxim holds that establishing how
the faithfulness and usefulness of representations are related is a costly exer-
cise. Pincock’s account therefore violates this maxim, and subsequently was
rejected.
According to the Inferential Conception, mathematics is applicable due to
a structural relation between the mathematical and physical domains. This
relation should be understood as a partial mapping between partial structures.
The IC is capable of providing answers to the problems of representation (the
multiple interpretations problem and misrepresentation due to abstraction and
idealisation), isolated mathematics and novel prediction problems. It holds
that whether mathematics is isolated or not is irrelevant to its capacity to be
applied; all that matters is whether it can enter the appropriate structural
relationships with the world. The multiple interpretation problem is answered
by attributing the success of inconsistent interpretations of a piece of mathe-
matics to the structural similarities between the empirical set ups, the targets
of the representation. The novel predictions problem is answered straightfor-
wardly; all interpretation on the IC consists in a partial mapping between the
mathematics and the empirical set up, thus there is no difference between so
called Pythagorean or Formalist predictions and typical examples of predic-
tion. Thus a novel prediction occurs when there is a novel entity, behaviour or
so on in the empirical set up irrespective of the supposedly distinct types of
prediction used to obtain that novelty. How the IC answers the issues related
to misrepresentation due to abstraction and idealisation will be outlined below,
after I outline how the IC might contribute to answering one of the problems
of applicability I did not address in this thesis.
The most relevant problem of applicability to the IC that I did not address
is the mathematical explanation problem: how does mathematics provide gen-
uine explanations of physical phenomena? This has already been touched on
283
by proponents of the IC, such as Bueno & French (2012). At minimum, the IC
provides a framework to approach the question. First, it allows us to identify
where the explanation might occur. Within the derivation step, the mathemat-
ics is all uninterpreted, and so any putative mathematical explanation would
be an ‘internal’ mathematical explanation, whereas what is required is an ‘ex-
ternal’ explanation: an explanation of a physical phenomena that is external
to the mathematical domain.1 Thus the explanation would have to come from
some mathematics within the final empirical set up. A strict reading of the IC
would then appear to rule out any mathematical explanation, as the mathe-
matics in the empirical set up is interpreted. i.e. Physical facts would be doing
the explanatory work, rather than mathematical facts. A possible response is
that the mathematics in the R3 component of the empirical set up could pro-
vide a mathematical explanation as it is still uninterpreted. Second, accounts
of explanation that might allow for mathematical explanations would have to
be consistent with the IC. The IC looks to be a promising way to approach
this issue. Hopefully it can also provide a similar framework to approach the
semantic problem.
The IC was found to be a fairly successful account of faithful epistemic
representation. The relationship between the faithfulness and usefulness of
representations could be accommodated by the partial structures framework
and partial truth. A ‘measure’ of the partiality of a representation could
be achieved by comparing the size of the Ri between the vehicle and target.
Representations can be considered useful, however partially faithful they are,
as they can be considered as ‘as if’ descriptions. Here the notion of partial truth
comes into play. Within a theoretical context, provided by the interpretation of
the mathematics, the representation can be considered ‘as if’ it were true. This
requires a revision to when we can claim a piece of mathematics as constituting
1Here I am adopting the notions of internal and external mathematical explanationoutlined by Baker (2009).
284
an idealisation: strictly, there are no idealised representations on the IC, as
the mathematics is uninterpreted while it is a representational vehicle. We
can only call the mathematics an idealisation once it has a theoretical context,
which comes when we interpret it. Thus we have idealised representations
when the empirical set ups are used as the representational vehicles in other
parts of the Semantic View.
Another issue related to this is the notion of surplus structure. I argued that
the fourth role of surplus structure, that of accommodating Hesse’s tripartite
analysis of analogies, should be restricted to the horizontal axis of the SV, while
the second (surplus mathematics that is initially not interpreted, but later
does receive an interpretation) and third roles (the extra mathematics involved
in idealisations such as representing magnitudes by real numbers) should be
restricted to the final empirical set ups, after the interpretation mappings.
The first role of surplus structure, mathematics that never receives a physical
interpretation, should be restricted to the first step of the IC, the immersion
step. I argued that in order to accommodate this role of surplus structure
several changes would have to be made to how singular limit idealisations are
typically addressed and how the ‘models’ of the IC are understood would have
to be altered. First, the SV could no longer be committed to the idea that a
singular limit necessitated a move to surplus structure. This was shown to be
the case through the β →∞ idealisation. Second, surplus structure has to be
understood as a family of structures that provide novel surrogative inferential
relations. A consequence of this is that when we iterate the immersion mapping
to obtain a second model, the surplus structure, this ‘model’ is actually a family
of structures. Third, I generated a dilemma for accommodating the surplus
structure within the R3 component of the partial structures. Briefly, either one
has to be committed to what I named the Very Large R3, i.e. all mathematics
(or structure suitably (partially) -morphic to all mathematics) would have to
285
be included in the R3 component, or one must find some way to restrict what is
included in the R3 component. I sketched several solutions to each horn of this
dilemma. The most promising of these solutions was the ‘natural’ restriction
solution to the Mathematical Restriction Problem. This solution requires one
to include only that mathematics which could be considered a natural extension
to the mathematics one is currently employing. This solution gained support
through my analysis of the CAM approach.
There is still further work to be done on these solutions. All of the potential
solutions for the surplus structure dilemma require further development. For
example, the notion of ‘natural’ central to the natural restriction solution needs
to be explored to ensure that it is not too permissive or too chauvinistic in
other cases. Perhaps the most significant further work that needs to be carried
out is to develop the IC as a third axis to the SV. The SV can be considered
to have a horizontal axis, which consists of inter-theory relationships, and a
vertical axis, which consists of relationships between data, phenomena and
theoretical models (French 2000, pg. 106). The ‘points’ along each of these
axes are the models of the SV, which are the representational targets of the
the IC.2 Each of these models will include mathematics to some degree, and
so require the resources of the IC to explicate how the mathematics represents
in each instance. Exactly how the IC can fit as a third axis with the other
two required development. Issues that need to be investigated include how
the IC fits with the dynamic inter-theory relations along the horizontal axis
and whether the problems of model creation and model use are solved through
adopting the IC as a third axis.
Pincock’s Mapping Account was initially promising. His various notions of
content and more relaxed approach to the structural relations (by including
2The axis metaphor is not to be taken too literally here. A model should not have athree valued co-ordinate. Rather ‘axis’ should be thought of more in terms of dimensionsalong which moves can be made to other models of varying features.
286
mathematics in the relations) appeared to provide a good framework within
which idealisations could be easily accommodated, and the relationship be-
tween the faithfulness and usefulness of the representations could be accounted
for. This initial hope was misplaced however. The answers I obtained from
Pincock’s Mapping Account regarding the issues of how the faithfulness and
usefulness of representations are related were found wanting for both types of
idealisation. Galilean idealisations were found to be faithful due to the struc-
tural similarities between the vehicle and the target, and useful due to the
structural relations. However, the justification for why the structural similar-
ities and relations ground the notions of faithfulness and usefulness appeared
to be based on the notion that we made these idealisations faithful and useful
for our purposes, which does not properly answer the question.
With respect to singular limit idealisations (or as cast by Pincock: singular
perturbation idealisations), Pincock’s account failed in different ways depend-
ing on what sort of singular limit idealisation was involved. Apparently in-
strumental cases, such as the boundary layer, provided no explanation for how
the faithfulness and usefulness of the representation were related. Noting that
the representation has to involve genuine content to obtain a prediction did
not help, as this merely involves specifying parameters for the case at hand;
it does not explain why the idealisations and mathematics actually produce
useful answers. Initially, it seemed that adopting a position of metaphysical ag-
nosticism towards other singular perturbation cases, such as the Bénard cells,
resulted in a circular justification for why these representations were faithful
and useful. I conducted further investigation into the metaphysical agnosti-
cism position by comparing and contrasting it with what Pincock had to say
about the β → ∞ idealisation and CAM approach. The conclusion of this
investigation was that the metaphysical agnosticism position was either unjus-
tified (due to being underdeveloped) or collapses into some kind of reductionist
287
position, given Pincock’s theory, representation and model distinction.
A final attempt to understand what Pincock might say concerning the
relationship between the faithfulness and usefulness of representations was
conducted by assessing the methodology Pincock adopted in constructing his
account. I argued that Pincock’s approach of adopting structural relations
that incorporate mathematics dependent upon the example at hand trivialises
the relationship between faithfulness and usefulness on his account. For this
reason, I feel that he not satisfied Contessa’s maxim that it should be difficult
to obtain faithful epistemic representation, and so rejected his account in favour
of the IC. It is not clear that any adjustments could save Pincock’s account.
Any restriction of the structural relation to the typical set theoretic structural
mappings of iso- or homo- morphisms would restrict one’s ability to adopt
enriched contents. A move to partial structures might be one way to go. The
obvious question to ask in response to this is whether Pincock’s account would
collapse into, or could be merged with, the IC. One reason I think this is
unlikely is that the PMA allows mathematics to be interpreted while acting as
a representational vehicle, while the IC does not. This is an insurmountable
difference.
288
A | Appendix: Mathematics of the
Rainbow
A.1 Introduction
In this appendix I will set out the derivation of the exact Mie solution for the
scattering of an electromagnetic spherical wave by a transparent sphere. This
derivation will be mostly taken from Liou (2002) and Grandy Jr (2005). I
will also set out a large part of the derivation of the Debye expansion of the
Mie solution, taken from Nussenzveig (1969a, 1992). I will briefly mention the
relevant equations for the Poisson sum formula, which is used in extending
real functions to the complex plane, before outlining the important points of
the derivation of the unified CAM approach, in particular the CFU method
for evaluating the contributions of the saddle points, taken from Nussenzveig
(1992). Finally, I will provide a brief summary of mathematics behind poles,
which are the other kind of critical point involved in the CAM approach, the
Regge-Debye poles.
289
A.2 Mie Representation1
We start with Maxwell’s equations, where E is the electric vector, D is the
electric displacement, j is the electric current density, B is the magnetic in-
duction vector, H is the magnetic vector, c is the speed of light, t is time and
ρ is the density of charge:
∇ ×H = 1
c
∂D
∂t+ 4π
cj (A.1)
∇ ×E = −1
c
∂B
∂t(A.2)
∇ ⋅D = 4πρ (A.3)
∇ ⋅B = 0 (A.4)
Since ∇ ⋅∇ ×H = 0, performing a dot product on (A.1) leads to
∇ ⋅ j = − 1
4π∇ ⋅ ∂D
∂t(A.5)
Differentiate (A.3) to get:
∂ρ
∂t+∇ ⋅ j = 0 (A.6)
To get a unique determination of the field vector from a given distribution of
current and charges, the above equations must be supplemented by relation-
ships that describe the behaviour of substances under the influence of the field.
1The majority of the derivation is taken from (Liou 2002, pg. 177-188), and (Grandy Jr2005, pg. 100-101).
290
These are given by:
j = σE (A.7)
D = εE (A.8)
B = µH (A.9)
where σ is the specific conductivity, ε the permittivity and µ the magnetic
permeability.
Consider the situation where there are no charges, ρ = 0, no current, ∣j∣ = 0,
and the medium is homogeneous so that ε and µ are constants. Thus we can
reduce the Maxwell equations to:
∇ ×H = εc
∂E
∂t(A.10)
∇ ×E = −µc
∂H
∂t(A.11)
∇ ⋅E = 0 (A.12)
∇ ⋅H = 0 (A.13)
These equations, (A.10) - (A.13), are used to derive the electromagnetic wave
equation. We consider a plane electromagnetic wave in a periodic field with a
circular frequency ω so that:
E→ Eeiωt (A.14)
H→Heiωt (A.15)
291
This allows (A.10) and (A.11) to be transformed into:
∇ ×H = ikm2E (A.16)
∇ ×E = −ikH (A.17)
where k is the wave number (k = 2πλ = ω
c ), m = √ε is the complex refractive
index of the medium at frequency ω, and µ ≈ 1 is the permeability of air.
We perform the curl operation on (A.17). Then, making use of the vector
identity ∇ × (∇ ×V) = ∇ (∇ ⋅V) − ∇2V and noting that ∇ × ∇ × E = 0 and
∇ ⋅E = 0, and similarly for H, we can obtain:
∇2E = −k2m2E (A.18)
∇2H = −k2m2H (A.19)
From these two equations, we can see that the electric vector and the magnetic
induction in a homogeneous medium satisfy the vector wave equation in the
form of (A.20), where A can be either E or H:
∇2A + k2m2A = 0 (A.20)
If ψ satisfies the scalar wave equation (A.21), the variables of which can be
separated through the definition of (A.23). The scalar wave equation is given
in spherical coordinates in (A.22).
0 = ∇2ψ + k2m2ψ (A.21)
0 = 1
r2
∂
∂r(r2∂φ
∂r) + 1
r2 sin θ
∂
∂θ(sin θ
∂ψ
∂θ) 1
r2 sin θ
∂2ψ
∂φ2+ k2m2ψ (A.22)
ψ (r, θ, φ) = R(r)Θ(θ)Φ(φ) (A.23)
292
we can define vectors Mψ and Nψ which satisfy (A.20). These vectors in
spherical coordinates (r, θ, φ) are:
Mψ = ∇ × [ar (rψ)]
= (ar∂
∂r+ aθ
1
r
∂
∂θ+ aφ
1
r sin θ
∂
∂φ) × [ar (rψ)]
= aθ1
r sin θ
∂ (rψ)∂φ
− aφ1
r
∂ (rψ)∂θ
(A.24)
mkNψ = ∇ ×Mψ
= arr [∂2 (rψ)∂r2
+m2k2 (rψ)] + aθ1
r
∂2 (rψ)∂r∂θ
+ aφ1
r sin θ
∂2 (rψ)∂r∂φ
(A.25)
The terms ar,aθ,aφ are unit vectors in the spherical coordinates.
Using two independent solutions to the scalar wave equation, u and v, we
find electric and magnetic field vectors (A.26) and (A.27) respectively, that sat-
isfy (A.16) and (A.17) respectively. This allows us to write E and H explicitly
as follows in (A.28) and (A.29):
E =Mv + iNu (A.26)
H =m (−Mu + iNv) (A.27)
E = ari
mk[∂
2 (ru)∂r2
+m2k2 (ru)] + aθ [1
r sin θ
∂ (rv)∂φ
+ i
mkr
∂2 (ru)∂r∂θ
]
+ aφ [−1
r
∂ (rv)∂θ
+ 1
mkr sin θ
∂2 (ru)∂r∂φ
] (A.28)
H = ari
k[∂
2 (rv)∂r2
+m2k2 (rv)] + aθ [−m
r sin θ
∂ (ru)∂φ
+ i
kr
∂2 (rv)∂r∂θ
]
+ aφ [m
r
∂ (ru)∂θ
+ i
kr sin θ
∂2 (rv)∂r∂φ
] (A.29)
We separate the variables of the scalar wave equation in spherical coordi-
293
nates by substituting (A.23) into (A.22), then multiply by r2 sin2 θ to obtain:
[sin2 θ1
R
∂
∂r(r2∂R
∂r) + sin θ
1
Θ
∂
∂θ(sin θ
∂Θ
∂θ) + k2m2r2 sin2 θ] + 1
Φ
∂2Φ
∂φ2= 0
(A.30)
Due to the dependence of the first three terms of (A.30) on r and θ, but not
φ, the equation is only valid when the following holds:
1
Φ
∂2Φ
∂φ2= constant = −`2 (A.31)
where we set the constant ` equal to an integer for mathematical convenience.
Substituting (A.31) into (A.30) and dividing through by sin2 θ we can write:
1
R
∂
∂r(r2∂R
∂r) + k2m2r2 + 1
sin θ
1
Θ
∂
∂θ(sin θ
∂Θ
∂θ) − `2
sin2 θ= 0 (A.32)
which requires the following to hold, where n is an integer:
1
R
d
dr(r2dR
dr) + k2m2r2 = const = n(n + 1) (A.33)
1
sin θ
1
Θ
d
dθ(sin θ
dΘ
dθ) − `2
sin2 θ= const = −n(n + 1) (A.34)
Rearranging (A.31), (A.33) and (A.34) leads to:
d2 (rR)dr2
+ [k2m2 − n(n + 1)r2
] (rR) = 0 (A.35)
1
sin θ
d
dθ(sin θ
dΘ
dθ) + [n(n + 1) − `2
sin2 θ] θ = 0 (A.36)
d2Φ
dφ2+ `2φ = 0 (A.37)
294
The single-value solution for (A.37) is:
φ = a` cos `φ + b` sin `φ (A.38)
where a` and b` are arbitrary constants.
(A.36) is the equation for spherical harmonics. By introducing µ = cos θ we
can rewrite (A.36) as:
d
dµ[(1 − µ) dΘ
dµ] + [n(n + 1) − `2
1 − µ2]Θ = 0 (A.39)
so that its solutions can be expressed by the associated Legendre polynomials
(which are spherical harmonics of the first kind) in the form of (A.40).
Θ = P `n (µ) = P `
n (cos θ) (A.40)
We can solve (A.35) by setting the variables kmr = ρ and R = 1√ρZ (ρ) to
obtain (A.41):
d2Z
dρ2+ 1
ρ
dZ
dρ+⎡⎢⎢⎢⎢⎣1 −
(n + 12)2
ρ2
⎤⎥⎥⎥⎥⎦Z = 0 (A.41)
The solutions to this equation can be expressed by the general cylindrical
function of order n + 12 , given by:
Z = Zn+ 12(ρ) (A.42)
Thus the solution of (A.35) is:
R = 1√kmr
Zn+ 12(kmr) (A.43)
Combining the solutions (A.38), (A.40) and (A.43) allows us to express the
295
elementary wave functions at all points on the surface of a sphere as:
ψ (r, θ, φ) = 1√kmr
Zn+ 12(kmr)P `
n (cos θ) (a` cos `φ + b` sin `φ) (A.44)
The cylindrical functions in (A.43) can be expressed as a linear combina-
tion of two cylindrical functions, the Bessel function Jn+ 12and the Neumann
function Nn+ 12. We thus define the Riccati-Bessel functions as:
ψn(ρ) =√πρ
2Jn+ 1
2(ρ) (A.45)
χn(ρ) =√πρ
2Nn+ 1
2(ρ) (A.46)
ψn are regular in every finite domain of the ρ plane including the origin, whereas
χn have singularities at the origin ρ = 0, where they become infinite. Because
of this, we can use ψn to represent the wave inside the scattering sphere, but
not χn. Utilising the Bessel and Neumann functions, (A.43) can be rewritten
as
rR = cnψn (kmr) + dnχn (kmr) (A.47)
where cn and dn are arbitrary constants. (A.47) is the general solution of
(A.35).
The general solution of the scalar wave equation (A.22) can then be ex-
pressed as:
rψ (r, θ, φ) =∞∑n=0
n
∑`=−n
P `n (cos θ) [cnψn (kmr) + dnχn (kmr)] (a` cos `φ + b` sin `φ)
(A.48)
As cn and dn are arbitrary constants, we can set them to cn = 1 and dn = i
296
so that we can write the section of (A.48) in square brackets as follows:
ψn (ρ) + iχn (ρ) =√πρ
2H
(2)n+ 1
2
(ρ) = ξn (ρ) (A.49)
where H(2)n+ 1
2
is the half-integral-order Henkel function of the second kind, which
vanishes at infinity in the complex plane, and is thus suitable for representing
the scattered wave.
The general solution of the scalar wave equation (A.22) can now be ex-
pressed as follows in terms of the spherical Riccati-Bessel and Riccati-Hankel
functions:
rψ (r, θ, φ) =∞∑n=0
n
∑`=−n
P `n (cos θ) ξn (kmr) (a` cos `φ + b` sin `φ) (A.50)
Above, we have solved the vector wave equation in general. We can use the
above analysis to describe the scattering of a plane wave by a homogeneous
sphere. For simplicity we assume that the medium outside of the sphere has a
refractive index of 1 (it is a vacuum), that the sphere has a refractive index of
m and that the incident radiation is linearly polarised. This allows us to chose
a Cartesian coordinate system with its origin at the centre of the sphere, the
positive z axis along the direction of propagation of the incident plane wave.
If one normalises the amplitude of the incident wave to 1, then the incident
electric and magnetic field vectors are given by:
Ei = axe−ikz (A.51)
Hi = aye−ikz (A.52)
where ax and ay are unit vectors along the x and y axes respectively. We can
transform the components of any vector in Cartesian coordinates, e.g. a, to
spherical coordinates. If ar,aθ,aφ are the relevant unit vectors in spherical
297
coordinates, then we can make use of the following geometric identifies to
perform this transformation:
ar = ax sin θ cosφ + ay sin θ sinφ + az cos θ (A.53)
aθ = ax cos θ cosφ + ay cos θ sinφ − az sin θ (A.54)
aφ = −ax sin θ + ay cosφ (A.55)
Thus the electric field vector can be expressed in spherical coordinates as
follows:
Eir = e−ikr cos θ sin θ cosφ (A.56)
Eiθ = e−ikr cos θ cos θ cosφ (A.57)
Eiφ = −e−ikr cos θ sinφ (A.58)
The magnetic field vector can be ignored, as to derive the coefficients that
will be presenting in the scattering functions only one of the components of
either the electric or magnetic field vectors will be required. We will use
the component Eir. Looking to (A.28), we can see that the first term is this
component. Thus (m = 1):
Eir = e−ikr cos θ sin θ cosφ = i
k[∂
2 (rui)∂r2
+ k2 (rui)] (A.59)
This allows us to find the potentials u and v. To do so we make use of the
following identities (A.61)-(A.63) and Bauer’s formula (A.60) (Liou 2002, pg.
298
183):
e−ikr cos θ =∞∑n=0
(−i)n (2n + 1) ψn (kr)kr
Pn (cos θ) (A.60)
e−ikr cos θ sin θ = 1
ikr
∂
∂θ(e−ikr cos θ) (A.61)
∂
∂θPn (cos θ) = −P 1
n (cos θ) (A.62)
P 10 (cos θ) = 0 (A.63)
In light of the above four equations we can write (A.56) as:
e−ikr cos θ sin θ cosφ = 1
(kr)n−1
∞∑n=1
(−i)2 (2n + 1)ψn (kr)P 1n (cos θ) cosφ (A.64)
We take a trial solution of (A.59) by using an expanding series of a similar
(mathematical) form:
rui = 1
k
∞∑n=1
αnψn (kr)P 1n cosφ (A.65)
We can then substitute (A.65) and (A.64) into (A.59), and through a compar-
ison of coefficients we obtain (A.66):
αn [k2ψn (kr) +∂2ψn (kr)
∂r2] = (−i)n (2n + 1) ψn (kr)
r2(A.66)
In order to establish the coefficient αn we must refer back to (A.47). Since we
know that χn (kr) become infinite at the origin (through which the incident
wave must pass), we can set the coefficients (which are arbitrary) as follows:
cn = 1 and dn = 0 (such that the χn do not feature). It follows that:
ψn (kr) = rR (A.67)
As (A.47) is the general solution of (A.35), (A.67) is as well, so long as α =
299
n(n + 1) in (A.68):
d2ψndr2
+ (k2 − α
r2)ψn = 0 (A.68)
Thus, comparing (A.68) and (A.66) we find αn to be
αn = (−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1) (A.69)
Similar procedures gives vi (the potential v for the incident plane wave)
from (A.29). Thus for the incident waves outside of the sphere, hence super-
script i, we have the following:
rui = 1
k
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)ψn (kr)P1n (cos θ) cosφ (A.70)
rvi = 1
k
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)ψn (kr)P1n (cos θ) sinφ (A.71)
In order to find the scattered wave potentials, we need to match ui and
vi with the potentials for the scattered wave inside and outside of the sphere.
We do this by expressing these potentials in a similar form, but with arbitrary
coefficients. These potentials are derived from (A.50), which was explained
above to be suitable to represent the scattered wave.
For internal scattered waves, i.e. transmitted waves hence superscript t, as
χn (mkr) are infinite at the origin, only the ψn (mkr) feature:
rut = 1
mk
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)cnψn (mkr)P1n (cos θ) cosφ (A.72)
rvt = 1
mk
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)dnψn (mkr)P1n (cos θ) sinφ (A.73)
However, for external scattered waves, hence superscript s, the ψn (mkr)
functions must vanish at infinity. Thus we make use of the Hankel functions
300
expressed in (A.49):
rus = 1
k
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)anξn (kr)P1n (cos θ) cosφ (A.74)
rvs = 1
k
∞∑n=1
(−i)n 2n + 1
n(n + 1)bnξn (kr)P1n (cos θ) sinφ (A.75)
In order to establish what the coefficients an, bn, cn, dn are, we make use of
the boundary conditions at the surface of the sphere: the components of E
and H are continuous across the spherical surface r = a such that:
Eiθ +Es
θ = Etθ (A.76)
Eiφ +Es
φ = Etφ (A.77)
H iθ +Hs
θ =H tθ (A.78)
H iφ +Hs
φ =H tθ (A.79)
Comparing (A.28) and (A.29) to (A.70)-(A.73), and making use of the bound-
ary conditions above, we see that the expressions v and 1m∂(ru)∂r for the electric
field and mu and ∂(rv)∂r for the magnetic field are continuous at the boundary,
r = a. Thus:
∂
∂r[r (ui + vi)] = 1
m
∂
∂r(rut) (A.80)
ui + us =mut (A.81)
∂
∂r[r (vi + vs)] = ∂
∂r(rvt) (A.82)
vi + vs = vt (A.83)
301
From (A.80)-(A.83) and (A.72)-(A.75) we have:
m [ψ′n (ka) − anξ′n (ka)] = cnψ′n (mka) (A.84)
[ψ′n (ka) − bnξ′n (ka)] = dnψ′n (mka) (A.85)
[ψn (ka) − anξn (ka)] = cnψn (mka) (A.86)
m [ψn (ka) − bnξn (ka)] = dnψn (mka) (A.87)
We can eliminate cn and dn to find an and bn in terms of the size parameter
β = ka = 2πλ a:
an =ψ′n(mβ)ψn(β) −mψn(mβ)ψ′n(β)ψ′n(mβ)ξn(β) −mψn(mβ)ξ′n(β)
(A.88)
bn =mψ′n(mβ)ψn(β) − ψn(mβ)ψ′n(β)mψ′n(mβ)ξn(β) − ψn(mβ)ξ′n(β)
(A.89)
cn =m [ψ′n(β)ξn(β) − ψn(β)ξ′n(β)]ψ′n(mβ)ξn(β) −mψn(mβ)ξ′n(β)
(A.90)
dn =m [ψ′n(β)ξn(β) − ψn(β)ξ′n(β)]mψ′n(mβ)ξn(β) − ψn(mβ)ξ′n(β)
(A.91)
In all “practical applications”, observations are made at the “far-field zone”
(Liou 2002, pg. 186). This ‘zone’ allows the introduction of an approximation:
the Hankel functions of (A.49) reduce to the form:
ξn (kr) ≈ in+1e−ikr kr ≫ 1 (A.92)
302
which results in the following approximations:
rus ≈ −ie−ikr cosφ
k
∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1)anP1n (cos θ) (A.93)
rvs ≈ −ie−ikr sinφ
k
∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1)bnP1n (cos θ) (A.94)
Esr =Hs
r ≈ 0 (A.95)
Esθ =Hs
φ ≈−ikre−ikr cosφ
∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1) [andP 1
n (cos θ)dθ
+ bnP 1n (cos θ)sin θ
] (A.96)
Esφ =Hs
θ ≈−ikre−ikr sinφ
∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1) [anP 1n (cos θ)sin θ
+ bndP 1
n (cos θ)dθ
] (A.97)
The radial components, Esr and Hs
r can be ignored in the far-field zone. We
can simplify (A.96) and (A.97) through the introduction of two scattering
functions :
S1 (β, θ) =∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1) [an(β)πn (cos θ) + bn(β)τn (cos θ)] (A.98)
S2 (β, θ) =∞∑n=1
2n + 1
n (n + 1) [bn(β)πn (cos θ) + an(β)τn (cos θ)] (A.99)
where:
πn (cos θ) = P1n (cos θ)sin θ
(A.100)
τn (cos θ) = dP1n (cos θ)dθ
(A.101)
Thus we may write the simplified versions of (A.96) and (A.97):
Esθ =
i
kre−ikr cosφS2 (θ) (A.102)
−Esφ =
i
kre−ikr sinφS1 (θ) (A.103)
We need to alter the notation of (A.88), (A.89), (A.100), (A.101) to match
303
that used in the latter part of the derivation. The approach to doing this is
taken from Grandy Jr (2005). To do this, we express (A.88), (A.89), (A.90)
and (A.91) via new quantities:
P en ≡ ψn(β)ψ′n(mβ) −mψn(mβ)ψ′n(β) (A.104)
Qen ≡ χn(β)ψ′n(mβ) −mψn(mβ)χ′n(β) (A.105)
Pmn ≡ ψn(mβ)ψ′n(mβ) −mψ′n(mβ)ψ′n(β) (A.106)
Qmn ≡ χ′n(β)ψn(mβ) −mψ′n(mβ)χn(β) (A.107)
where superscript e denotes the electric components and superscript m denotes
the magnetic components. This allows us to express the coefficients as:
an =P en
P en + iQe
n
(A.108)
bn =Pmn
Pmn + iQm
n
(A.109)
cn =−im
P en + iQe
n
(A.110)
dn =im
Pmn + iQm
n
(A.111)
Note that Grandy uses Hankel functions of the first type. The Hankel functions
are complex conjugates of each other: (ξ(1)n (z))∗ = ξ2n(z). I believe this is the
reason for the difference between the coefficients given in Grandy Jr. (e.g.
his bn is equal to −bn from Liou: cf. equation (5.2.74) (Liou 2002, pg. 185)
and equation (3.88b) (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 87).) Grandy Jr. also makes use
of the Wronskian of the ψn(x) and ξn(x) functions (A.113). This allows the
nominators of cn and dn to be written in terms of i and the complex refractive
304
index, m:
W f(x), g(x) ≡ f(x)g′(x) − f ′(x)g(x) (A.112)
W ψn(z), χn(z) = 1 (A.113)
The Wronskian allows the numerator of cn to be transformed as follows:
m [ψ′n(β)ξn(β) − ψn(β)ξ′n(β)]
=m [ψ′n(β) (ψn(β) + iχn(β)) − ψn(β) (ψ′n(β) + iχ′n(β))]
Dropping the subscript n and (β), rearranging and then by (A.113)
=m [ψψ′ + iψ′χ − ψψ′ − iψχ′]
=m [ψψ′ − ψψ′ + i (ψ′χ − ψχ′)]
=m [−i (ψχ′ − ψ′χ)]
=m [−i (1)]
= −im
This notation allows one to gain “insight into the physical meaning of the
coefficients” (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 100). Taking m to be real for a moment,
one can define a real phase shift δn as:
tan δen ≡P en
Qen
(A.114)
tan δmn ≡ Pmn
Qmn
(A.115)
305
so that the coefficients are equal to:
an =tan δentan δen
= 1
2(1 − e2iδen) (A.116)
bn =tan δmntan δmn
= 1
2(1 − e2iδmn ) (A.117)
(A.116) can be expanded (and similarly for (A.117)):
an =P e2n
P e2n +Qe2
n
− i P enQ
2en
P e2n +Q2e
n
(A.118)
Grandy Jr. points us to scalar wave scattering and the expression for the
partial scattering amplitude he derived:
fn(k) =e−in
π2
2ik[Sn (ka) − 1] (A.119)
where Sn (ka) ≡ e2iδn is the partial-wave ‘scattering matrix’ in terms of phase
shifts. We can follow a similar path here by defining the matrix:
Sn ≡⎛⎜⎜⎝
SEn 0
0 SMn
⎞⎟⎟⎠
(A.120)
For real m, Sn must be unitary (by conservation of energy). Thus SEn and SMn
must be phase factors, and can only be those introduced above in (A.116) and
(A.117):
an =1
2[1 − SEn (β)] (A.121)
bn =1
2[1 − SMn (β)] (A.122)
Substituting into (A.88) and (A.89) allows us to express (A.121) and (A.122)
306
as:
SEn (β) = −ζ2n (β)ζ1n (β)
( ln′ ζ2n (β) −m−1 ln′ψn (mβ)
ln′ ζ1n (β) −m−1 ln′ψn (mβ)
) (A.123)
SMn (β) = −ζ2n (β)ζ1n (β)
( ln′ ζ2n (β) −m ln′ψn (mβ)
ln′ ζ1n (β) −m ln′ψn (mβ)
) (A.124)
where we have changed to using ζ(1,2) to denote the Riccati-Hankel functions of
type 1 and 2 respectively, and we define the logarithmic derivative as ln f(x) =d ln f(x)dx = f ′(x)
f(x) . For convenience these two types of multipole can be combined
into the single expression where v1 = 1 and v2 =m−2, j = 1,2:
Sjn (β) = −ζ2n (β)ζ1n (β)
( ln′ ζ2n (β) −mvj ln′ψn (mβ)
ln′ ζ1n (β) −mvj ln′ψn (mβ)
) (A.125)
A further modification to the notation of (A.98) and (A.99) has to be made.
The motivation behind this modification is to introduce angular functions,
pn (cos θ) and tn (cos θ), that are “more useful for [analytic] extrapolation to
complex indices” than those found in (A.98) and (A.99) (Grandy Jr 2005,
pg. 133). These angular functions “contain only simple Legendre polynomials,
remove the explicit appearance of numerical factors, and exclude values with
n = 0”. With x = cos θ and for all n ≠ 0 we define:
pn (x) =[Pn−1(x) − Pn+1(x)]
1 − x2= 2n + 1
n (n + 1)πn(x) (A.126)
tn (x) = −xpn (x) + (2n + 1)Pn (x) = 2n + 1
n (n + 1)τn(x) (A.127)
Thus (A.125) can be written as follows:
Sj (β, θ) =1
2
∞∑nS=1
[1 − S(j)n (β)] tn (cos θ) + [1 − S(i)
n (β)]pn (cos θ) (i, j = 1,2i ≠ j)
(A.128)
307
This is the exact Mie solution for the scattering amplitudes.
The dimensionless scattering amplitude can be expressed as a partial-wave
expansion in terms of the scattering amplitudes:
f (k, θ) = 1
ika
∞∑n=0
(n + 1
2) [Sn − 1]Pn (cos θ) (A.129)
A.3 Debye Expansion2
The Debye expansion involves representing the multipole of index n in the par-
tial wave sums (A.123) - (A.125) in terms of incoming and outgoing spherical
waves that are partially transmitted and partially reflected at the surface of
the sphere (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 144) (Adam 2002, pg. 283). We employ the
Debye expansion as applying the Poisson sum formula, (A.155), to the Mie
solution directly results in residue series that converge no quicker than Mie
solution itself.
We start by introducing the radial wavefunctions for the interior region of
the sphere, denoted as region 1, and the exterior region of the sphere, denoted
as region 2. We can also introduce spherical reflection and transmission coef-
ficients so that we can write the radial wavefunction in each region, for each
partial wave, as:
φ2,n(r) = A⎛⎝ζ(2)n (kr)ζ(1)n (β)
+R22ζ(1)n (kr)ζ(1)n (β)
⎞⎠
(A.130)
φ1,n(r) = A⎛⎝T21
ζ(2)n (mkr)ζ(2)n (mβ)
⎞⎠
(A.131)
where A is a normalisation constant. φ and its derivative, φ′, must be continu-
ous at the surface of the sphere, r = a. This results in the relation T21 = 1+R22
and gives us enough information for us to determine R22 and T21. The Rij
2This derivation is summarised from (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 144-153) and Nussenzveig(1969a,b).
308
are spherical reflection coefficients and the Tij are spherical transmission coef-
ficients, where i, j = 1,2, denoting the regions the spherical wave is reflecting
from or transmitting to.
An outgoing spherical wave that interacts with the surface is described by:
φ2,n(r) = A⎛⎝T12
ζ(1)n (kr)ζ(1)n (β)
⎞⎠
(A.132)
φ1,n(r) = A⎛⎝ζ(1)n (nkr)ζ(1)n (nβ)
+R11ζ(2)n (nkr)ζ(2)n (nβ)
⎞⎠
(A.133)
We can again match φ and its derivative φ′ at the boundary r = a to yield
the relation T12 = 1 +R11 and allows us to determine T12 and R11. Grandy Jr.
gives these coefficients for the magnetic case, j = 1 with his equations (5.18a)
- (5.18d) (Grandy Jr 2005, pg. 146).
It is also useful to see the algebraic derivation of these coefficients for both
the electric and magnetic multipoles, from Sn(β). We can rewrite (A.125) as
(A.136) making use of the notation of Nussenzveig (1969a), with j = 1,2:
[z] ≡ ln′ψn(z) =ψ′n(z)ψn(z)
(A.134)
[jz] ≡ ζ(j)′n (z)ζ(j)n (z)
(A.135)
Sn(β) = −ζ(2)n (β)ζ(1)n (β)
[2β] −mvj [mβ][1β] −mvj [nβ]
(A.136)
The second factor in (A.136) can be rewritten as:
[2β] −mvj [mβ][1β] −mvj [mβ]
= 1 − [1β] − [2β][1β] −mvj [2mβ]
[1β] −mvj [2mβ][1β] −mvj [mβ]
(A.137)
We can employ an identity (Grandy Jr.’s (5.11)) to transform the last factor
of (A.137), and further algebraic manipulation to rewrite the right hand side
309
of (A.137) as:
[2β] −mvj [mβ][1β] −mvj [mβ]
= −⎛⎝R22 (n,β) +
T21 (n,β)T12 (n,β)1 − ρ (n,β)
ζ(1)n (mβ)ζ(2)n (mβ)
⎞⎠
(A.138)
where:
ρ (n,β) ≡ −ζ(1)n (mβ)ζ(2)n (mβ)
[1β] −mvj [1mβ][1β] −mvj [2mβ]
(A.139)
(A.138) introduces the new functions for the spherical reflection and transmis-
sion coefficients:
R11 (n,β) ≡ζ(2)n (mβ)ζ(1)n (mβ)
ρ (n,β) (A.140)
R22 (n,β) ≡ −[2β] −mvj [2mβ][1β] −mvj [2mβ]
(A.141)
T12 (n,β) ≡[1mβ] − [2mβ]
[1β] −mvj [2mβ]= 1 +R11 (A.142)
T21 (n,β) ≡[1β] − [2β]
[1β] −mvj [2mβ]= 1 +R22 (A.143)
This allows us to rewrite (A.125) in terms of these coefficients:
Sn(β) =ζ(2)n (β)ζ(1)n (β)
⎛⎝R22 (n,β) +
ζ(1)n (mβ)ζ(2)n (mβ)
+ T21 (n,β)T12 (n,β)1 − ρ (n,β)
⎞⎠
(A.144)
We can introduce new forms of these coefficients by noticing that the ratios of
310
the Hankel functions in (A.144):
R11n (β) ≡ ζ
(1)n (mβ)ζ(2)n (mβ)
R11 (nβ) (A.145)
R22n (β) ≡ ζ
(2)n (β)ζ(1)n (β)
R22 (nβ) (A.146)
T 12n (β) ≡ ζ
(1)n (mβ)ζ(1)n (β)
T12 (nβ) (A.147)
T 21n (β) ≡ ζ
(2)n (β)
ζ(2)n (mβ)
T21 (nβ) (A.148)
which allows (A.144), the partial wave coefficients and the internal coefficients
to be written as follows:
Sn(β) = R22n + T
21n T
12n
1 −R11n
(A.149)
⎧⎪⎪⎪⎪⎨⎪⎪⎪⎪⎩
an
bn
⎫⎪⎪⎪⎪⎬⎪⎪⎪⎪⎭= 1
2(1 −R22
n − T21n T
12n
1 −R11n
) (A.150)
cn =T 21
1 −R11n
(A.151)
dn =T 12
1 −R11n
(A.152)
We can expand the denominator of (A.149) to obtain the Debye expansion
of the amplitude functions, Sjn. This can be expressed in terms of the spherical
coefficients as in (A.153), or in terms of the scattering functions as in (A.154):
Sjn = R22n + T 21
n
∞∑p=1
(R11n )p−1
T 12n (A.153)
Sj (β, θ) = Sj,0 (β,0) +P
∑p=1
Sj,p (β, θ) + remainder (A.154)
The first term in each case, R22n and Sj,0, is associated with direct reflection
from the surface and the pth term is associated with transmission after (p − 1)
311
internal reflections at the surface.
A.4 Poisson Sum
The Poisson sum formula is given in (A.155). This allows for an infinite sum
over a real function to be transformed into an integral over complex variables.
∞∑n=0
ψ (Λ, r) =∞∑
m=−∞(−1)m
∞
∫0
ψ (Λ, r) e2imπΛ dΛ (A.155)
where ψ is a certain function, Λ = n + 12 , n is the order of expansion of the
scattering functions, and r is a position vector.
A.5 Unified CAM Approach
Applying the modified Watson transform to the third term of the Debye ex-
pansion allows us to obtain a contour integral. We extend to the complex
plane so that we can deform the path to make the integration easier. In doing
so, we are able to “concentrate dominant contributions to the integrals into the
neighborhood of a small number of points in the λ plane, that will be referred
to as critical points. The main type of critical points are saddle points, that can
be real or complex, and complex poles such as the Regge poles” (Nussenzveig
1992, pg. 62). In this section I will set out the mathematics of the Watson
transformed third Debye term and the mathematics of the Chester-Friedman-
Ursell (CFU) method for resolving the collision between two saddle points.
The concept of poles is outlined in the final section.
312
A.5.1 Third Debye Term3
Based on Nussenzveig’s work, Adam offers a version of the Debye expansion
for the total scattering function:
f (β, θ) = f0 (β, θ) +∞∑p=1
fp (β, θ) (A.156)
fp (β, θ) = −i
β
∞∑n=−∞
(−1)n∞
∫0
U (λ,β) [γ (λ,β)]p−1Pλ− 1
2(cos θ) e2inπλλdλ
(A.157)
where fp is for p ≥ 1. U (λ,β) and γ (λ,β) in fp are given in (A.158) and
(A.159) respectively.4
U (λ,β) = T21 (λ,β)ζ(1)λ (α) ζ(2)λ (β)ζ(2)λ (α) ζ(1)λ (β)
T12 (λ,β) = U (−λ,β) (A.158)
γj =⎡⎢⎢⎢⎣ζ(1)n (α)ζ(2)n (α)
⎤⎥⎥⎥⎦Rj
11 (A.159)
From applying the modified Watson transformation to each individual term
of the Debye expansion, we can write the third term as:
f2 (β, θ) = −i
β
∞∑
m=−∞(−1)m
∞
∫0
γ (λ,β)U (λ,β)Pλ− 12e2imπλλdλ (A.160)
After rearrangement and a shift in the path of integration to above the real
axis, (A.160) can be written as:
f2 (β, θ) = −1
2β
∞−iε
∫−∞−iε
γUPλ− 12(cos θ) eiπλ λ
cosπλdλ (A.161)
3The derivation here is summarised from Adam (2002), who bases his work on Nussen-zveig (1969b).
4The spherical coefficients should be the same between Adam (2002), Grandy Jr (2005)and Nussenzveig (1992); any difference will be due to a difference in notation or rearrangingof terms.
313
for ε > 0, due to the function being odd. This integral can be decomposed into
(A.162), where f±2,0 (β, θ) is given in (A.163) and f±2,r (β, θ) is given in (A.164).
f2 (β, θ) = f+2,0 + f2,r = f−2,0 − f2,r (A.162)
f±2,0 (β, θ) = ±i
β
∞∓iε
∫−∞±iε
γUQ(2)λ− 1
2
(cos θ) dλ (A.163)
f2,r (β, θ) =1
2β
∞+iε
∫−∞−iε
γUe2iπλ λ
cosπλdλ (A.164)
Above, Q(2)λ− 1
2
is a Legendre function of the second kind. It can be shown
that there will always be some neighbourhood of the imaginary axis where the
integrand in (A.163) will diverge to infinity. This is true for any value of θ,
and so there is no domain of θ-values for which f±2,0 and hence f2 (β, θ) can be
reduced to a pure residue series. i.e. We need to use the saddle points.
A.5.2 CFU Method for Saddle Points
The rainbow is described as the collision between two saddle points. The
typical approach to finding the contribution to an integral from saddle points
is the method of ‘steepest descent’. This method fails, however, when the
range of two saddle points overlap. de Bruijin gives an informal definition of
the range of saddle points: “if ζ is a saddle point of the function ψ, then the
range of ζ is a circular neighbourhood of ζ, consisting of all z-values which are
such that ∣ψ′′(ζ) (z − ζ)2∣ is not very large” (de Bruijn 1958, pg. 91).
The principle behind the CFU method is to alter the exponent involved in
a general complex integral from a Gaussian type to an exact cubic.
Steepest Descent
Consider the general complex integral (A.165). The integral is over some path
in the w plane, where κ is an asymptotic expansion parameter and is large
314
and positive, and ε is an independent parameter. If this integral is dominated
by a single saddle point w = w(ε), around which f and g are regular, one can
approximate F (κ, ε) as f (w, ε) in this neighbourhood, where f ′′w denotes the
second derivative with respect to w.
F (κ, ε) = ∫ g(w)e[κf(w,ε)] dw (A.165)
f(w, ε) ≈ f(w, ε) + 1
2f ′′w(w, ε)(w − w)2 (A.166)
Choosing the steepest descent through the saddle point w alters the integral
to a Gaussian type. A change of variables allows us to transform the exponent
into an act Gaussian. This allows an asymptotic expansion of the integral to
be found by adopting a power series expansion of g around w and integrating
term by term.
The method of steepest descent allows for the contribution of saddle points
to be established. Provided that the range of two saddle points do not overlap,
then their contributions can be added independently. If their ranges do overlap,
then the method of steepest descent fails and we require the CFU method. This
overlap occurs in the rainbow region.
CFU Method: In General
The basic idea behind the CFU method is to transform the exponent of (A.166)
into an exact cubic through a change of variables, e.g. (A.167). This transforms
the two saddle points, w′ and w′′ into ±ζ 12 (ε). f(w, ε) is then substituted back
into (A.165), allowing for a suitable expansion of the integrand to obtain a
suitable equation for F (κ, ε).
f(w, ε) = 1
3u3 − ζ(ε)u +A(ε) (A.167)
315
CFU Method: The Rainbow
The CFU method applied to the rainbow requires an adjusted form of (A.160):
f2,g (β, θ) = −i
β
σ2∞
∫−σ1∞
ρUQ(2)λ− 1
2
(cos θ)λdλ (A.168)
where:
Q(2)λ− 1
2
= e2iπλQ(1)λ− 1
2
(cos θ) − ieiπλPλ− 12(− cos θ) (A.169)
Here the path of integration from (A.163) has been deformed into the path of
deepest descent, denoted by the change in limits of the integral to (−σ1∞, σ2∞).
This entails moving across the poles. This integral may be rewritten as:
f2,g = 2e−iπ4 N ( 2β
π sin θ)
12
F (β, θ) (A.170)
F (β, θ) =σ′2∞
∫−σ′1∞
g(w1)e2βf(w1,θ) dw1 (A.171)
f (w1, θ) = i [2N cosw2 − cosw1 + (2w2 −w1 −π − θ
2) sinw1] (A.172)
g (w1) = (sinw1)12 cos2w1 cosw2 [
cosw1 −N cosw2
(cosw1 +N cosw2)3 ] [1 +O(β−1)]
(A.173)
Above, equations (A.165) and (A.166) set out the general form of the equations
needed for the method of steepest descent. The specific versions of these
equations for the rainbow are equations (A.171) and (A.172) respectively.
The rest of the mathematics are too complex to include here. Further
details can be found in Nussenzveig (1969b) and Adam (2002). Nussenzveig
(1992) provides a summary of the derivation, which finished with equation
(A.174). This equation provides the form of dominant contribution to the
316
third Debye term in the rainbow region:
Sj2(β, θ) ≈ β76 e[2βA(ε)] [cj0(ε) + β−1cj1(ε) + . . . ]Ai [(2β)
23 ζ(ε)] (A.174)
+ [dj0(ε) + β−1dj1(ε) + . . . ]β−13Ai′ [(2β) 2
3 ζ(ε)]
A.6 Poles5
[A function] is analytic in a region of the complex plane if it has a (unique)
derivative at every point in the region. The statement ‘f(z) is analytic at a
point z = a’ means that f(z) has a derivative at every point inside some small
circle about z = a.
A regular point of f(z) is a point at which f(z) is analytic. A singular
point or singularity of f(z) is a point at which f(z) is not analytic. It is called
an isolated singular point if f(z) is analytic everywhere else inside some small
circle about the singular point.
Laurent’s Theorem:
Let C1 and C2 be two circles with centre at z0. Let f(z) be analytic in
the region R between the circles. Then f(z) can be expanded in a series
of the form
f(z) = a0 + a1(z − z0) + a2(z − z0)2 + ... + b1z − z0
+ b2(z − z0)2
+ ...
(A.175)
convergent on R. Such a series is called a Laurent series. The ‘b’ series
in (A.175) is called the principle part of the Laurent series.
If all the b’s are zero, f(z) is analytic at z = z0, and we call z0 a regular
point. If bn ≠ 0, but all the b’s after bn are zero, f(z) is said to have a pole of
order n at z = z0. If n = 1, we say that f(z) has a simple pole. If there are an5This entire section is reproduced directly from Boas (2005), pg. 667-670, and pg. 680.
317
infinite number of b’s different from zero, f(z) has an essential singularity at
z = z0. The coefficient b1 of 1z−z0 is called the residue of f(z) at z = z0.
318
Bibliography
Adam, J. A. (2002). The Mathematical Physics of Rainbows and Glories.
Physics Reports, 356(4-5), 229–365.
Baker, A. (2005). Are there Genuine Mathematical Explanations of Physical
Phenomena? Mind, 114(454), 223–238.
Baker, A. (2009). Mathematical Explanation in Science. The British Journal
for the Philosophy of Science, 60(3), 611–633.
Baker, A. (2012). Complexity, Networks, and Non-Uniqueness. Foundations
of Science, Online Preprint, 1–19.
Bangu, S. I. (2006). On the Pythagoreanism of Modern Physics. PhD thesis,
University of Toronto.
Bangu, S. I. (2008). Reifying Mathematics? Prediction and Symmetry Clas-
sification. Studies In History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies In
History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 39(2), 239–258.
Bartels, A. (2006). Defending the Structural Concept of Representation. Theo-
ria, 55, 7–19.
Batterman, R. W. (1997). ‘Into a Mist’: Asymptotic Theories on a Caustic.
Studies in History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 28(3), 395–413.
Batterman, R. W. (2001). The Devil in the Details. Asymptotic Reasoning in
Explanation, Reduction, and Emergence. Oxford University Press.
319
Batterman, R. W. (2005a). Critical Phenomena and Breaking Drops: Infinite
Idealizations in Physics. Studies In History and Philosophy of Science Part
B: Studies In History and Philosophy of Modern Physics, 36(2), 225–244.
Batterman, R. W. (2005b). Response to Belot’s “Whose Devil? Which De-
tails?”. Philosophy of Science, 72(1), 154–163.
Batterman, R. W. (2008). Idealization and Modeling. Synthese, 169(3), 427–
446.
Batterman, R. W. (2010). On the Explanatory Role of Mathematics in Em-
pirical Science. The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 61(1),
1–25.
Batterman, R. W. (2011). Emergence, Singularities, and Symmetry Breaking.
Foundations of Physics, 41(6), 1031–1050.
Belot, G. (2005). Whose Devil? Which Details? Philosophy of Science, 72(1),
128–153.
Berry, M. V. (1981). Singularities in Waves and Rays. Physics of Defects, 35,
453–543.
Bishop, R. C. (2006). The Hidden Premiss in the Causal Argument for Phys-
icalism. Analysis, 66(1), 44–52.
Bishop, R. C. (2008). Downward Causation in Fluid Convection. Synthese,
160(2), 229–248.
Bishop, R. C. & Atmanspacher, H. (2006). Contextual Emergence in the
Description of Properties. Foundations of Physics, 36(12), 1753–1777.
Boas, M. (2005). Mathematical Methods in the Physical Sciences. John Wiley
& Sons, 3rd edition.
320
Brading, K. & Landry, E. (2006). Scientific Structuralism: Presentation and
Representation. Philosophy of Science, 73(5), 571–581.
Bueno, O. (1997). Empirical Adequacy: A Partial Structures Approach. Stud-
ies in the History of the Philosophy of Science, 28(4), 585–610.
Bueno, O. (1999). Empiricism, Conservativeness, and Quasi-Truth. In Phi-
losophy of Science Supplement: Proceedings of the 1998 Biennial Meetings
of the Philosophy of Science Association. Part I: Contributed Papers (pp.
S474–S485).
Bueno, O. (2005). Dirac and the Dispensability of Mathematics. Studies In
History and Philosophy of Science Part B: Studies In History and Philosophy
of Modern Physics, 36(3), 465–490.
Bueno, O. (2009). Mathematical Fictionalism. In B. Otávio & Ø. Linnebo
(Eds.), New Waves in Philosophy of Mathematics (pp. 59–79). Palgrave
Macmillan.
Bueno, O. & Colyvan, M. (2011). An Inferential Conception of the Application
of Mathematics. Noûs, 45(2), 345–374.
Bueno, O. & French, S. (2011). How Theories Represent. The British Journal
for the Philosophy of Science, 62(4), 857–894.
Bueno, O. & French, S. (2012). Can Mathematics Explain Physical Phenom-
ena? The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 63, 85–113.
Bueno, O., French, S., & Ladyman, J. (2002). On Representing the Relation-
ship Between the Mathematical and the Empirical. Philosophy of Science,
69(3), 452–473.
Callender, C. & Cohen, J. (2006). There Is No Special Problem About Scientific
Representation. Theoria, 55, 67–85.
321
Chakravartty, A. (2009). Informational Versus Functional Theories of Scientific
Representation. Synthese, 172(2), 197–213.
Colyvan, M. (2001). The Indispensability of Mathematics. Oxford University
Press.
Colyvan, M. (2002). Mathematics and Aesthetic Considerations in Science.
Mind, 111(441), 69–74.
Colyvan, M. (2008). The Ontological Commitments of Inconsistent Theories.
Philosophical Studies, 141(1), 115–123.
Contessa, G. (2007). Representation, Interpretation, and Surrogative Reason-
ing. Philosophy of Science, 74(1), 48–68.
Contessa, G. (2011). Scientific Models and Representation. In S. French & J.
Saatsi (Eds.), The Continuum Companion to the Philosophy of Science (pp.
120–137). Continuum.
da Costa, N. C. A. & French, S. (1990). The Model-Theoretic Approach in
the Philosophy of Science. Philosophy of Science, 57(2), 248–265.
da Costa, N. C. A. & French, S. (2003). Science and Partial Truth. A Unitary
Approach to Models and Scientific Reasoning. Oxford University Press.
de Bruijn, N. G. (1958). Asymptotic Methods in Analysis. Courier Dover
Publications.
French, S. (1999). Models and Mathematics in Physics: The Role of Group
Theory. In J. Butterfield & C. Pagonis (Eds.), From Physics to Philosophy
(pp. 187–207). Cambridge University Press.
French, S. (2000). The Reasonable Effectiveness of Mathematics: Partial Struc-
tures and the Application of Group Theory to Physics. Synthese, 125, 103–
120.
322
French, S. (2003). A Model-Theoretic Account of Representation (Or, I Don’t
Know Much about Art...but I Know It Involves Isomorphism). Philosophy
of Science: Proceedings of the 2002 Biennial Meeting of the Philosophy of
Science Association. Part I: Contributed Papers, 70(5), 1472–1483.
French, S. (2012). The Presentation of Objects and the Representation of
Structure. In Structural Realism (pp. 3–28). Springer.
French, S. & Ladyman, J. (1998). Semantic Perspective on Idealization
in Quantum Mechanics. In Idealization IX: Idealization in Contemporary
Physics (pp. 51–73). Rodopi.
French, S. & Saatsi, J. (2006). Realism about Structure: The Semantic View
and Nonlinguistic Representations. Philosophy of Science, 73(5), 548–559.
Frigg, R. (2002). Models and Representation: Why Structures Are Not
Enough. Mesurement in Physics and Economics Project Discussion Paper
Series.
Frigg, R. (2006). Scientific Representation and the Semantic View of Theories.
Theoria, 55, 49–65.
Gell-Mann, M. (1987). Particle Theory: From S-Matrix to Quarks. In M. G.
Doncel, A. Hermann, & L. Michel (Eds.), Symmetries in Physics (1600-
1980), Proceedings of the 1st International Meeting on the History of Sci-
entific Ideas, Held at Sant Feliu De Guíxols, Catalonia, Spain, September
20-26, 1983 (pp. 473–497). Servei de Publicacions, UAB.
Georgi, H. (1999). Lie Algebras in Particle Physics. From Isospin to Unified
Theories. Westview Press, second edition.
Giere, R. N. (1988). Explaining Science. A Cognitive Approach. University of
Chicago Press.
323
Giere, R. N. (2004). How Models Are Used to Represent Reality. Philosophy
of Science, 71(5), 742–752.
Giere, R. N. (2006). Scientific Perspectivism. University of Chicago Press.
Goodman, N. (1976). Languages of Art. Hackett.
Grandy Jr, W. T. (2005). Scattering of Waves from Large Spheres. Cambridge
University Press.
Griffiths, D. (1987). Introduction to Elementary Particles. John Wiley & Sons.
Hempel, C. G. (1962). Deductive-Nomological vs. Statistical Explanation. In
H. Feigl & G. Maxell (Eds.), Scientific Explanation, Space and Time (pp.
98–169). University of Minnesota Press.
Hempel, C. G. (1965). Aspects of Scientific Explanation. And Other Essays in
the Philosophy of Science. Free Press.
Hempel, C. G. & Oppenheim, P. (1948). Studies in the Logic of Explanation.
Philosophy of Science, 15(2), 135–175.
Hendry, A. W. & Lichtenberg, D. B. (1978). The Quark Model. Reports on
Progress in Physics, 41, 1707–1780.
Hesse, M. B. (1963). Models and Analogies in Science. Oxford University
Press.
Hodges, W. (1997). A Shorter Model Theory. Cambridge University Press.
Hughes, R. I. G. (1997). Models and Representation. Philosophy of Science
Supplement: Proceedings of the 1996 Biennial Meetings of the Philosophy of
Science Association. Part II: Symposia Papers, 64, S325–S336.
324
Jones, M. R. (2005). Idealization and Abstraction: A Framework. In Idealiza-
tion XIII: Correcting the Model. Idealization and Abstraction in the Sciences
(pp. 173–217). Rodopi.
Kadanoff, L. P. (2000). Statistical Physics. Statics, Dynamics, and Renormal-
ization. worldscientific.com.
Kattau, S. (2001). Kabbalistic Philosophy of Science? Metascience, 10(1),
22–31.
Kim, J. (1998). Mind in a Physical World. An Essay on the Mind-body
Problem and Mental Causation. MIT Press.
Kim, J. (2003). Blocking Causal Drainage and Other Maintenance Chores
with Mental Causation. Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, 67(1),
151–176.
Kitcher, P. (1981). Explanatory Unification. Philosophy of Science, 48(4),
507–531.
Kitcher, P. (1989). Explanatory Unification and the Causal Structure of the
World. In P. Kitcher & W. C. Salmon (Eds.), Scientific Explanation (pp.
410–506). University of Minnesota Press.
Kline, M. (1972). Mathematical Thought From Ancient to Modern Times,
volume 1. Oxford University Press.
Kragh, H. (1990). Dirac. A Scientific Biography. Cambridge University Press.
Kundu, P. K. & Cohen, I. M. (2008). Fluid Mechanics. Eslevier, 4th edition.
Landry, E. (2007). Shared Structure Need Not Be Shared Set-Structure. Syn-
these, 158(1), 1–17.
325
Landry, E. (2012). Methodological Structural Realism. In Structural Realism
(pp. 29–58). Springer.
Lange, M. (2013). What Makes a Scientific Explanation Distinctively Mathe-
matical? The British Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 64(3), 485–511.
Lewis, D. (1986). On the Plurality of Worlds. Blackwell.
Liou, K. N. (2002). An Introduction to Atmospheric Radiation. Academic
Press, second edition.
Liston, M. (2000). Mark Steiner: "The Applicability of Mathematics as a
Philosophical Problem" Book Review. Philosophia Mathematica, 8, 190–
207.
Maddy, P. (1992). Indispensability and Practice. The Journal of Philosophy,
89(6), 275–289.
Maddy, P. (2007). Second Philosophy. A Naturalistic Method. Oxford Univer-
sity Press.
McCarthy, E. D. (1984). Toward a Sociology of the Physical World: George
Herbert Mead on Physical Objects. Studies in Symbolic Interaction, 5, 105–
121.
McGivern, P. (2008). Reductive Levels and Multi-Scale Structure. Synthese,
165(1), 53–75.
McMullin, E. (1978). Structural Explanation. American Philosophical Quar-
terly, 15(2), 139–147.
McMullin, E. (1985). Galilean Idealization. Studies in the History of the
Philosophy of Science, 16(3), 247–273.
326
Melia, J. (2000). Weaseling Away the Indispensability Argument. Mind,
109(435), 455–479.
Melia, J. (2002). Response to Colyvan. Mind, 111(441), 75–79.
Morrison, M. (1999). Models as Autonomous Agents. In M. S. Morgan & M.
Morrison (Eds.), Models as Mediators: Perspectives on Natural and Social
Science (pp. 38–65). Cambridge University Press.
Morrison, M. (2008). Models As Representational Structures. In Nancy
Cartwright’s Philosophy of Science (pp. 67–88). Routledge.
Nahin, P. J. (2004). When Least Is Best. How Mathematicians Discovered
Many Clever Ways to Make Things as Small (or as Large) as Possible.
Princeton University Press.
Nussenzveig, H. M. (1969a). High-Frequency Scattering by a Transparent
Sphere. I. Direct Reflection and Transmission. Journal of Mathematical
Physics, 10(1), 82–124.
Nussenzveig, H. M. (1969b). High-Frequency Scattering by a Transparent
Sphere. II. Theory of the Rainbow and the Glory. Journal of Mathematical
Physics, 10(1), 125–176.
Nussenzveig, H. M. (1992). Diffraction Effects in Semiclassical Scattering.
Cambridge University Press.
Pais, A., Jacob, M., Olive, D. I., & Atiyah, M. F. (1998). Paul Dirac. The
Man and His Work. Cambridge University Press.
Pincock, C. (2004a). A New Perspective on the Problem of Applying Mathe-
matics. Philosophia Mathematica, 12, 135–161.
Pincock, C. (2004b). A Revealing Flaw in Colyvan’s Indispensability Argu-
ment. Philosophy of Science, 71(1), 61–79.
327
Pincock, C. (2007). A Role for Mathematics in the Physical Sciences. Noûs,
41(2), 253–275.
Pincock, C. (2012). Mathematics and Scientific Representation. Oxford Uni-
versity Press.
Putnam, H. (2002). The Collapse of the Fact/Value Dichotomy and Other
Essays. Harvard University Press.
Rae, A. I. M. (2008). Quantum Mechanics. Taylor & Francis, fifth edition.
Redhead, M. (1975). Symmetry in Intertheory Relations. Synthese, 32, 77–112.
Redhead, M. (1980). Models in Physics. British Journal for the Philosophy of
Science, 31(2), 145–163.
Redhead, M. (2001). The Intelligibility of the Universe. In A. O’Hear (Ed.),
Philosophy at the New Millennium (pp. 73–90). Cambridge University Press.
Redhead, M. (2004). Asymptotic Reasoning. Studies In History and Philosophy
of Science Part B: Studies In History and Philosophy of Modern Physics,
35(3), 527–530.
Resnik, M. D. (1997). Mathematics as a Science of Patterns. Oxford University
Press.
Rohwer, Y. & Rice, C. (2013). Hypothetical Pattern Idealization and Explana-
tory Models. Philosophy of Science, 80(3), 334–355.
Rowlett, P. (2011). The Unplanned Impact of Mathematics. Nature, 475,
166–169.
Saatsi, J. (2007). Living in Harmony: Nominalism and the Explanationist
Argument for Realism. International Studies in the Philosophy of Science,
21(1), 19–33.
328
Saatsi, J. (2011). The Enhanced Indispensability Argument: Representational
versus Explanatory Role of Mathematics in Science. The British Journal for
the Philosophy of Science, 62(1), 143–154.
Salmon, W. C. (1977). A Third Dogma of Empiricism. In Basic Problems in
Methodology and Linguistics (pp. 149–166). Springer Netherlands.
Salmon, W. C. (1984). Scientific Explanation and Casual Structure of the
World.
Shapiro, S. (1997). Philosophy of Mathematics : Structure and Ontology. Struc-
ture and Ontology. Oxford University Press.
Simons, P. (2001). Book Review. Mark Steiner: "The Applicability of Mathe-
matics as a Philosophical Problem". The British Journal for the Philosophy
of Science, 52, 1–4.
Sober, E. (1984). The Nature of Selection. Evolutionary Theory in Philosoph-
ical Focus. MIT Press.
Steiner, M. (1998). The Applicability of Mathematics as a Philosophical Prob-
lem. Harvard University Press.
Strevens, M. (2008). Depth. An Account of Scientific Explanation. Harvard
University Press.
Suárez, M. (1999). The role of models in the application of scientific theories:
epistemological implications . In M. S. Morgan &M. Morrison (Eds.),Models
as Mediators: Perspectives on Natural and Social Science (pp. 168–196).
Cambridge University Press.
Suárez, M. (2003). Scientific Representation: Against Similarity and Isomor-
phism. International Studies in the Philosophy of Science, 17(3), 225–244.
329
Suárez, M. (2004). An Inferential Conception of Scientific Representation.
Philosophy of Science, Proceedings of the 2002 Biennial Meeting of the Phi-
losophy of Science Association. Part II: Symposia Papers, 71(5), 1–14.
Suárez, M. (2010). Scientific Representation. Philosophy Compass, 5(1), 91–
101.
Swoyer, C. (1991). Structural Representation and Surrogative Reasoning. Syn-
these, 87(3), 449–508.
Teller, P. (1986). Relational Holism and Quantum Mechanics. The British
Journal for the Philosophy of Science, 37(1), 71–81.
Teller, P. (1997). An Interpretive Introduction to Quantum Field Theory.
Princeton University Press.
Thompson, E. & Varela, F. J. (2001). Radical embodiment: neural dynamics
and consciousness. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 5(10), 418–425.
van de Hulst, H. C. (1981). Light Scattering by Small Particles. Courier Dover
Publications.
van Fraassen, B. C. (2002). The Empirical Stance. Yale University Press.
van Fraassen, B. C. (2010). Scientific Representation. Paradoxes of Perspec-
tive. Oxford University Press.
Weisberg, M. (2007). Three Kinds of Idealization. The Journal of Philosophy,
104(12), 639–659.
Weisberg, M. (2013). Simulation and Similarity. Using Models to Understand
the World. Oxford University Press.
Weyl, H. (1968). Gesammelte Abhandlungen. Springer DE.
330
Wigner, E. (1960). The Unreasonable Effectiveness of Mathematics in the
Natural Sciences. In Mathematics: People, Problems and Results.
Wilson, M. (2006). Wandering Significance. An Essay on Conceptual Behavior.
Oxford University Press.
Woodward, J. & Hitchcock, C. (2003). Explanatory Generalizations, Part I:
A Counterfactual Account. Noûs, 37(1), 1–24.
Yablo, S. (2005). The Myth of Seven. In Fictionalism in Metaphysics (pp.
88–115). Oxford University Press.
Zermelo (1967). A New Proof of the Possibility of the Well-Ordering. In J.
van Heijenoort (Ed.), From Frege to Gödel: A Source Book in Mathematical
Logic (pp. 183–198). Harvard University Press.